Music and Misunderstandings
by amandald98
Summary: Keeping together beyond the music is the hardest thing. There is no time signature, no key to play in. So Bingley, Darcy, Jane, and Lizzie just have to hold on, and hope the rest will come soon.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hiya eoplespay! This is my first P&P fanfic, so **constructive** criticism please!

Disclaimer 1: I have NO idea how professional orchestras are run (yes, half the world is screaming at me "Why the heck did you write about it then?" I understand.), so input from anyone who is a professional musician would be appreciated.

Disclaimer 2: I am not Jane Austen (if I was, I'd be dead).

Disclaimer 2.5: Pride and Prejudice is public domain, and besides, fanfiction is allowed according to copyright law.

Disclaimer 3: The author is not responsible for any stabbing of eyes or pulling of hair due to the horribleness (is that a word?) of the story... Jk...

And without further ado, Music and Misunderstandings

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when a conductor steps up to the podium, the musicians are supposed to become quiet.

Charles Bingley stepped up to the music stand in front of him. The room, which had previously been filled with the sound of 35 musicians tuning, practicing, and chatting fell silent immediately. Charles smiled. "Hello. I hope everyone's had a nice day so far." A few "hi's" greeted him. It was 7 o'clock in the morning, and many of them had to commute 30 minutes or more to get to work. "Today, however, I will not be conducting. I would like to introduce Mr. William Darcy as our replacement for Mr. Wickham as conductor."

A round of applause greeted this statement. The Penn Orchestra had been looking for a good conductor for quite some time now after Wickham had been arrested for unknown reasons.

Mr. Darcy, a tall, dark haired, good looking man strode up to the podium.

The orchestra started whispering as soon as they caught a glimpse of him. The women were giggling and batting their eyelashes up at him.

"He's HAWT!"

"You can say that again!"

Meanwhile, the men and some of the nongiggling women were having quiet conversations not involving his "HAWT!"ness.

"_The_ William Darcy? Of Pemberley Orchestra?"

"Must be... Not a whole lot of people named William _Darcy_!"

"Sounds like the guy in Jane Austen's novel... What was it?"

"_Pride and Prejudice_!"

"What the heck? We have some serious Austen problems here... I mean, Lizzie Bennet, Jane Bennet, Charlie Bingley, and now Mr. Darcy are all in this freaking orchestra!"

"This is slightly creepy..."

"We have most of the cast for the show right here! Just grab Charlie's sister, bail Wickham out of jail, get the rest of Jane's sisters, find some random guy named Mr. Collins, and you're set!"

In the viola section, there was much of the same conversation going on, with the added twist of Lizzie Bennet being present.

"Hey, Lizzie, it's your Mr. Darcy!" cried a snickering second viola.

"Shut up, Richard," scowled Lizzie. Richard Fitzwilliam was the prankster of the group, and loved to tease Lizzie about her name.

"Well hey, it's true; William Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet are together in the book!"

"1. Mr. Darcy's name in the book is Fitzwilliam and 2. It's a book, for goodness sake. Oh, and wait, you're _Richard Fitzwilliam_," Lizzie added with a smirk.

"Touché, Lizzie!" cried Richard, laughing amiably.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you to all who reviewed! I really appreciate the feedback. You all get virtual cookies...**

**I shalt not bore you with more of my super long (but hopefully entertaining) disclaimers. Suffice to say, I am not Jane Austen.**

**Also, the rating has been changed to K+ due to some implied swearing, etc.**

Darcy was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. The whole room had exploded in whispers as he walked to stand in front of the 35 bemused

(or in some cases, smitten) musicians. There was also a woman with curly, brown hair staring daggers at him.

"- Pemberley Orchestra-"

"- William Darcy?-"

"- very rich-"

"-HAWT!"

At this remark, he'd had enough. He raised his hand, signaling for silence.

"Hello, everyone," he said stiffly, "My name is William Darcy, and I'm here for the duration of my sabbatical, 3 months. I'm glad to be able to be your conductor, and I hope these three months will go well. I believe you will be performing for the musical _Pride and Prejudice_ in two day's time."

Several nods in the affirmative, but mostly whispering.

"Well, we're going to need to practice then."

"Let's start by tuning."

He picked up the baton in his right hand, and raised both his hands.

The Pianist played a solid A. The room filled with the many different pitches of the note. First the strings, then the winds tuned.

Darcy lowered his hands. The musicians automatically went to concert rest: instruments on laps or resting on the ground.

"That was good. Let's go on to The Portrait Song."

Darcy raised his hands again.

The room filled with the opening notes of the song, a solo by the pianist. Slowly, the whole group joined in. In the middle, there was a swelling crescendo, Darcy's favorite part. He dropped his hands at the end of the song.

"That was pretty good. Violas, let's go back to measure 43."

The violas fixed their problem. Then, they moved on to a couple other pieces, all from Pride and Prejudice.

At 10 o' clock, Darcy called break. The musicians streamed out of the building as fast as could be allowed. Charlie and Mr. Darcy stayed back, preferring to exit in a more leisurely manner.

"So how are you liking Penn so far?" asked Charles with a little smirk, heading out the door.

Lizzie Bennet walked out of the music room, annoyed and frustrated.

Why couldn't anyone SHUT THE FREAK UP? She was just trying to play, without added distractions from immature adults.

Elizabeth walked out to a small grove of trees and sat down on a stone bench. Her cellphone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out. It was a text from Charlotte:

**From: randomninja**

**Whazzup**

Lizzie grinned. She liked hearing from her friend, who was in the

Valley Orchestra (even though there wasn't a valley to be seen for

miles).

**From: viola3**

**Nuttin much**

**From: randomninja**

**How's the new con?**

Lizzie sighed. She had told Charlotte that orchestra would finally get a conductor... Unfortunately, she knew the teasing would begin as soon as she mentioned his name:

**From: viola3**

**Named will Darcy**

**From: randomninja**

**U hv gt 2 b kiding**

**From: viola3**

**Nope!**

**From: randomninja**

**WTF?**

**From: viola3**

**I no... Creepy**

**From: randomninja**

**But I meant in a nice way... He's wd of pem orch, omg!**

**From: viola3**

**G2g**

Lizzie shut her phone. Mr. Darcy and Charles were walking into the grove, and she didn't want them to know she was there. Elizabeth couldn't bear the idea of having to make small talk with such a taciturn person. So she sat...

"... They're all really unprofessional. I mean, they started whispering as soon as you said my name!" That was, undoubtedly, Mr.

Darcy.

"Will, they're not that bad. You just don't give them a chance... And besides, you're the famous "Will Darcy of Pemberley Orchestra." Jane

Bennet is really nice, and so is her sister, Lizzie."

"Gosh, Bingley, so now you're trying to set me up with someone named

Elizabeth Bennet. I like Jane Austen well enough, but seriously!"

"Darce, seriously. I'm not trying to "set you up" as you, so quaintly, put it. I'm merely pointing out that she is a nice, respectable woman,

and a good musician besides."

Lizzie tried to telepathically thank Charles.

"I don't think everything that you've stated so far holds true. For one thing, she was looking at me as if I had ruined her entire life when I walked in, which I find rather offensive. I'm sure she isn't a good musician, either. The sound that was coming from her section was a racket, to say the least."

"First off, William, as a human being, i will NOT tolerate you insulting my friend. Second, as a professional, I will NOT tolerate you singling out one person from our group and blaming them for everything."

Will, for once, was silent.

Lizzie practiced her telepathy again and tried to thank Charles.

Perhaps he got the message, or felt Lizzie staring at him, or perhaps he heard a noise. In any case, he turned to find Lizzie Bennet, wearing a disgusted expression.

"Hello Charles, Mr. Darcy. I believe I will be going now." She walked quickly out of the grove.

"Thanks a ton for that one, William," Bingley said coldly, "You may have lost us our best viola player."

A/N: Oooh... A cliffhanger! Not. Hopefully. It doesn't seem like one to me, but hey, I'm the one writing it! Anyways... Hopefully I won't write the same dialogue over and over again, like I did for the beginning of this chapter. It seems boring to me, but I kinda felt it was crucial to the plot.

And to end this longish A/N, I'm just going to say that I have a bunch more typed up, and if amandald98's CPU is working, there should be an update sometime soon.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Just going to say right now, I'm not good at angst (is this even considered it?). It's probably horrible. Sorry if I sound pessimistic..._

_Some of the characters may also sound not natural and really scripted... I don't know how to stop doing that, so any ideas are welcome._

Lizzie stomped off, enraged. She was going to quit, no matter anyone else's opinion. She was DONE with this Darcy guy who thought he was all that.

Who would THINK of calling Penn "unprofessional"? They had a rep to rival Pemberley. Penn had been asked to play for freakin' Broadway, for goodness' sake!

No, Lizzie didn't care one jot about the months they had spent practicing leading up to the event in two days. All she cared about was distancing herself from Darcy- the imbecile!

Charles raced past an embarrassed Darcy to the concert hall, fuming.

How were they ever going to find a new viola player in 2 days, train them, and have them ready for Friday's opening performance?

He was so lost in thought that he bumped into Lizzie as she was heading out the door.

"I'll have my resignation ready to hand in tomorrow," said Lizzie angrily, "And you can go back to your 'friend' now."

"But-"

Lizzie was already out the door, seething with rage. "Stupid Mr. Darcy and his stupid arrogance. What a JERK!" thought Lizzie, "I absolutely

REFUSE to work with him."

Meanwhile, Will Darcy made his way to the bench in a daze. Darn it!

His rep would be ruined if anyone heard about this. He might also lose an essential player in the orchestra- two blows in one. He wasn't being all that truthful with Charles in that conversation- all he wanted to do was get him off his back.

If he thought about it, Lizzie Bennet was rather pretty. Although she did have her faults, one of Darcy's favorite things about her were her eyes. They were dark and expressive. They had danced with mirth as she joked around with Richard. They had an intelligent look about them.

That was what he was drawn to- nothing else (He had to state this firmly to himself quite a few times).

And yes, he did admit that Ms. Bennet was an exemplary musician. "Much too good for Penn," he thought, "She could join Pemberley and be first chair, she's that good."

When Lizzie got to her apartment, she threw off her shoes and collapsed into a chair. She grabbed her laptop off the table and started it up, thinking. Should she email her resignation in, or go in tomorrow to hand it in personally? Lizzie decided on the latter. It would be unfair to Charlie and all her friends not to say goodbye.

As soon as she was logged in, the computer "ping"ed, and she glanced down at the mail icon. Six unread messages. Lizzie clicked on it. 1 from Mr. Bingley, one from Charlotte, and 4 pieces of spam. She opened the one from Mr. Bingley first:

From: char _ bing pennorch [dot] com

To: liz _ bennet pennorch [dot] com

Subject: Read this. Please.

—

Lizzie-

If you have decided to open this, I am eternally grateful.

First off, let me just say that you are a great person and a wonderful musician. Don't let anyone let you think otherwise. Will's behavior was unreasonable, and I know this, but I'd like you to know that he isn't usually like this. I don't know what set him off today, but I do know you didn't deserve to be singled out like that.

Second, we need to talk business. I know you want to quit right now, but the musical is two days away, and I can't find someone to replace you that quickly. The orchestra needs you, Lizzie, and it would be a great disservice to them to quit at such a critical time. Also, remember that Mr. Darcy is only with us for 3 months during his sabbatical. He was also the only one up for the job. Sure, hundreds applied, but Darcy was the only one that really _good_. I don't know if you noticed today, but he was totally into the music. He knew it almost as well as if he had written it.

Anyways, I should be going. I will refuse your resignation, should you decide to hand one in.

Charles Bingley

Assistant conductor

Penn Orchestra

—

Just then, her phone rang. Its ringtone was set to "What is This

Feeling?" from Wicked. It was set up as a joke by her sister.

Lizzie checked the caller ID. It was Jane! She quickly opened the phone.

"Hi Lizzie."

"Hi Jane!"

"Where the heck are you? Charlie said you went home sick. What is it REALLY?"

Lizzie and Jane both knew that Lizzie rarely got sick.

"Oh, just the fact that Mr. Darcy is a stuck-up, demeaning jerk!"

"LIZZIE-!"

"Well, it's true! He called our orchestra immature and unprofessional, and me a bad musician and an emotional idiot!"

"When?"

"During break, when I was sitting in my usual place. They didn't notice me, and so Darcy started spouting a bunch of BS about Penn.

Then Charlie said something nice about us and Mr. Darcy the idiot-"

"Lizzie-!"

"Exploded."

"Lizzie, I need to get back to practice. We can discuss this more when

I get home." Jane hung up, leaving Lizzie hanging.

_A/N: In case you're wondering, Charles Bingley says he is "eternally grateful" because he knows Lizzie's a bit hotheaded, and it would be a one in a million chance that she would even open the email, much less read it._

_Monica: Thanks! I am in a band right now, and play clarinet. What did you play? Random ninjas rule!_

_Aya001: I'm glad you like my Charles. I guess I wanted to give him a bit of a backbone, because in a lot of fanfics he doesn't._

_Narcissa24601: I'm glad you like it!_

_Avanell: Thanks for your comments!_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry about the false alarm for the 3****rd**** chapter… The formatting hates me, and I was trying to fix it. Unfortunately, I didn't see the little thing that says replace document… Oops!**

**Anyways, here's the latest chapter (sorry for the delay). Hope you like it!**

William Darcy had never been so uncomfortable in his life, and this was saying something. Not even after his cousin, Richard, had spilled coffee on him intentionally before an important meeting.

Darcy was standing at the podium awkwardly, Charles glaring at him from the back of the room. A woman had run in a couple minutes later, clearly distressed... What was her name? Elizabeth's sister? Ah, yes.

Jane. Jane Bennet.

Darcy was so lost in thought that he missed two key signature changes in one piece.

The musicians were looking at him strangely by then, wondering why their conductor seemed so distant. Maybe it had to do with Lizzie

Bennet storming out the door... All they knew was that he was very

unattentive.

Dan tried to ask a question: "Excuse me, Mr. Darcy, but I'm wondering why we didn't change tempos at measure sixty-six?" He waited for a reply. None came. "Ummm... Mr. Darcy? Mr. Darcy?

At this point, the whole room, save Mr. Bingley, was getting worried.

Charles rose, and calmly proceeded to the front of the room. He tapped Darcy's shoulder.

"Darce? You need to wake up and conduct, dude," Charles whispered calmly. He had been through Darcy's absentminded forgetfulness multiple times, and he knew what to do.

Darcy started, "Huh?"

Charles repeated what he had said previously.

Darcy nodded slowly, "Thank you, Charles."

Charles walked back to his seat, mission completed.

Dan raised his hand again.

Darcy nodded in his direction, and Dan repeated the question. Darcy responded, "That was a silly mistake, and I will take full responsibility for it. Let's run through that piece one more time."

Lizzie groaned. She was typing up her resignation with little success. She couldn't care less about that Darcy guy, and would have written down his every word, but one thing held her back. She cared about her friends. She knew they could carry on without her, but they needed a conductor. Even if just for 3 months. Saying what she would have wanted to would get Darcy fired for sure. And though she hated to admit it, he was their best option right now.

**A/N: *evil laugh* Will Lizzie stay or will she go? I love skewing things, don't you?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: 15 reviews! *gasps* Thanks guys! **

Darcy was upset. He stormed into Charles' townhouse, where he was staying, and collapsed onto the sofa next to said owner. Darcy sighed. It had been a long day. He had been inattentive at the orchestra on his first day! There would be talk.

Charles made a grunt in salutations. Darcy started.

"Bingley, what am I going to do?" he asked, glumly, "I probably offended the entire orchestra."

"I think you should see someone about that daydreaming problem of yours," Charles responded.

"I do _not _have a daydreaming problem, Bingley. You know why I'm always preoccupied."

"Unfortunately, the orchestra does not. So I suggest you shape up and get back to business before I have to call back Wickham.," Bingley responded slyly.

It certainly did the trick. Darcy went pale as a sheet. "Of course… I guess… I don't want him to harm Li- anyone in the orchestra!"

"Ahh… So when you say the orchestra, you mean Lizzie. I see now… This is beginning to make sense."

"Bingley…" Darcy growled warningly.

"Okay, fine, Darce. Just be glad I didn't tell Richard," Charles grinned. He knew he had some good blackmail.

*beep* *beep*

Elizabeth Bennet woke with a groan. She slammed the offending object- her alarm clock- and slowly made her way out of bed. Rubbing her eyes, she headed to the brightly lit kitchen, where Jane was already sitting and eating some toast.

Lizzie glanced at the headlines. Nothing too special- just the ever growing healthcare debate. She skimmed the Local News, the Sports-Yes! The Yankees won!- and finally reached the Arts and Life section. Her jaw dropped open. The heading of the most prominent article read: "WILTON DANPEIR RELEASES NEW ALBUM: NIGHT'S AIR IN MUSIC STORES GLOBALLY."

"Stop gaping- you'll let flies in," joked Jane.

"We NEED to go get this!" Lizzie practically screamed.

"Ummm… Okay, perhaps after you've put on something more decent for work," replied Jane.

"Aww c***," complained Lizzie, "I forgot about work. I need to hand in my resignation."

"You don't _need _to hand it in. You could stay with Penn," Jane said hopefully.

"Yes, I do. Once the conductor becomes a jerk, I leave. I'm getting changed, then we can go," Lizzie responded stubbornly, then raced up the stairs to her room. _Clothes? Check. Resignation? Check. Purse? Where is my dratted purse? _Lizzie thought.

After much rummaging around in the living room, Lizzie found her purse under the couch, tossed carelessly under it the night before.

"Ready to go, sis!" she said, brightly.

"Let's get going… Otherwise I'm going to be late!" Jane said, glancing at the clock, "Thankfully it's not that far to MusiMania."

The sisters jumped into the car. Being the crazy driver she was, Lizzie cruised 5mph above the speed limit, Jane gripping the seat for dear life.

"Could you slow down next time?" Jane asked grumpily, as they careened into the parking lot of MusiMania, a brightly colored building that was basically one huge mural.

"One speed only!" Lizzie replied cheekily, "But let's get going. I don't want to miss out on that new CD!"

They headed in, a trumpet blast signaling their arrival, as opposed to a buzzer. A man at the counter was crouching to look for something when they came in, but suddenly stood up as he heard the "bell."

"Hey Lizzie, Jane!" said the man. The sisters came in often enough for music, strings, etc. that he knew their names.

"Hey Trevor!" responded Lizzie, "Would you happen to have any more copies of the new Wilton Danpeir CD?"

"As a matter of fact, I do!" Trevor looked around in the back for a bit before pulling out a slightly battered copy of Night's Air, "Sorry about the condition. The rack was inundated as soon as we opened. I just managed to save this one from the mob."

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Lizzie yelled, causing Jane to cover her ears over at the flute music section. She was examining some Wicked music.

"You're welcome…?" Trevor said, slightly put out by how loud Lizzie's voice could get, "That'll be $11."

Lizzie pulled the money from her wallet as Jane walked over to the counter with her "hard" Wicked flute music.

"Could I get this also?" asked Jane.

Lizzie finished paying and got her receipt. She stood out of the way.

"Of course. That's $11.95."

Jane paid, and the two sisters walked out of the store, pleased with their purchases.

**A/N: Mwahaha… Who can guess the weird connection here (between the CD and other character(s) in the story)? Review and tell me what you think. Oh, and you may have guessed… I'm obsessed with Wicked! My favorite song is Defying Gravity.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: And the secret is revealed… Ish. Should be a very interesting chapter (in which I reveal my transparency as a writer). Also, please note that the section thingys aren't working, so I'm resorting to bolding the first few words of each section.**

**Once inside the car**, Lizzie hurriedly pulled the CD out of the wrapping. Jane had convinced Lizzie to let her drive, so she was sitting shotgun, examining the cover of the latest album. It was simple: a firefly lit up on a background of pitch black, the words 'Night's Air' and 'Wilton Danpeir' set unobtrusively in the lower left hand corner.

Lizzie popped the CD in. The CD player whirred and buzzed as Jane pulled out of the parking lot. The sweet, simple melody filled the car as they headed towards the Orpheum Theater for dress rehearsals. Wilton Danpeir entered after a few seconds, his baritone voice singing:

_The world is put on hold for you,_

_The grass stops growing without you,_

_The earth stops knowing without you._

_Without you,_

_I can't see the daylight_

_Without you,_

_The stars don't shine,_

_Without you,_

_My life isn't worth living for…_

Lizzie gasped. Jane looked at her curiously.

"What's up?" she said looking concerned.

"That… That sounded like Mr. Darcy!"

**Will Darcy had forgotten **about the stupid release of his stupid album. He had been sitting at the table, eating breakfast (omelet with bell pepper, Darcy style), when he had noticed the headline of the Arts section.

"What the heck?" he had almost yelled, but then checked himself. He just said it a little softer instead, realizing that Charles probably didn't want the neighbors to think he had loonies over at his house, "And Sophie didn't call?"

Sophie was his manager. She kept his dates in order (not that he had many outside of the orchestra). Unfortunately, she hadn't remembered this one.

William decided to call her up. After 3 rings, she picked up.

"What do you want, Darcy?" she grunted into the phone.

"Good morning to you, too," Will replied.

"William Darcy, do you realize that it's SIX IN THE MORNING, right?"

Will glanced up at the clock. Sophie was right.

"Gosh! Sorry about that… But I do have a question for you!"

"Spit it out while I'm still awake," Sophie yawned.

"Why didn't you remind me that today was a release day?"

"Oh s***! Sorry 'bout that, boss. 'Night's Air', right?" Sophie queried.

"Mhmm," Will murmured in acquiescence, shoving the food around his plate with his fork.

"Okay, you can get some rest and I'll see what I can do," Sophie said, already plotting out her game plan.

"Thanks Sophie. You're the best!"

"Oh, you'd better believe it," she said, smiling.

"Bye." Will ran his hands through his hair and decided to get ready. It wasn't as if anyone in the orchestra (save Charles) knew about it, right?

**A/N: You see that little button down there? It's his birthday, so you should do what he says… Please? And besides, who doesn't like pushing little buttons?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Irrational people in this chapter… Lots and lots. Brace yourselves we're going in!**

**Elizabeth Bennet stormed** into the theater where dress rehearsals were scheduled. She clutched her resignation tightly in her hands. Jane was running to keep up with her.

"I'm just going to get this over with, okay? Then I'll go back home and pick you up at 8," Lizzie stated.

"Are you sure about this?" asked Jane.

"I'm quite sure," replied Lizzie.

"Oh, all right. But don't expect Charles or Mr. Darcy to be happy… And make sure to say goodbye to everyone."

"Fine, but no longer."

With that, the women had reached the door that led to the orchestra. They opened it to silence- no one had arrived except Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.

Jane stepped in first, hoping to have some calm before the storm. "Good morning," said Jane warmly. Unfortunately, it didn't look like a very good morning for either of the men. She noticed that they had bags under their eyes, but Mr. Dracy looked the worst. If there was a last minute change to _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, _Zombie #1 was right here. He looked as if he was about to collapse onto a music stand. Jane wished she'd brought coffee for both of them.

"Hello Jane! Is Lizzie here?" asked Charles. Darcy seemed to perk up a bit at the sound of Lizzie's name.

"Yes, she is, Charlie," Jane responded.

"Good, because I'd like to speak with her.

At that moment, Lizzie entered, resignation scrunched up tightly in her hand. "Charles, Mr. Darcy," she nodded to both of them in turn, rather coldly, "Or should I say MR. DANPEIR?" 

The whole room became eerily quiet.

The first one to break the silence was Mr. Darcy. "H-how did you figure it out?" Darcy finally stuttered, turning bright red at her information.

"Oh, maybe it's because I just HAPPENED to get your new album?" she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"G-… My transparency is getting worse. Would you mind not telling anyone?" asked Mr. Darcy.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow at this, but remained silent.

Charles decided to elaborate. "William doesn't want any connection between him and pop at the moment. There are too many bad names associated with it for his reputation to be safe as a classical musician and conductor."

Lizzie nodded, but decided not to comment. Instead, she got right to the point. "Charles, here is my resignation. It's been great working with Penn, but I've decided that quitting is my best option." She handed the piece of paper to Mr. Bingley.

"Lizzie, please," said Charles, looking quite desperate, "Can't you stay through _Pride and Prejudice_?"

"Mr. Bingley, under these circumstances, I believe that will not be possible."

"Lizzie, I do not accept your resignation. Please go back home and get your viola for rehearsal." Mr. Bingley's voice was low and dangerous.

"And who gave you the right to push me around?" asked Lizzie defiantly.

"GO, Ms. Bennet, or I will have Darcy drag you there!"

Lizzie grumbled, but nodded. She stormed out and threw herself into the car. This was going to be a very interesting day.

**Lizzie pulled into **the parking lot with five minutes to spare. She raced up to the door and ran in, bursting through the door of the orchestra pit, disheveled and out of breath. She felt 34 pairs of eyes boring into her as she sat down in her spot in the front row.

**A/N: And thus ends this short installment. Sorry for not posting in a while…**

**PinkCandy: Yeh, the song was made by me… But you already knew that! XD**

**YepItsMe: Pushing buttons for a living would be awesome… But alas, I do not know of a job where one can do that!**

**Aya001: Very predictable, aren't I?**

**Thanks to PinkCandy, YepItsMe, Aya 001, Avanell, Monica, Kate, Cathy King, p****rincesswinterspringsummerfall, and Narcissa24601 for reviewing! Want to get your name on this list? Click that little button down there!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I think you peoples (not a word, I know, I know) deserve an extra long chapter for your complete awesomeness… Here we go!**

**Practices continued **as always. The general fatigue was having no positive effect on the morale, but they were pulling through. Slowly but surely, the orchestra made it to the opening night of previews.

**On opening night, **Lizzie was in a comparable state of panic. She was rushing around, trying to find her music that had just been scattered all over the pit due to the fact that the heating vent above her had gone on, blowing a rush of hot air down at her stand. She had done everything she could to prepare, and in ten minutes, it was showtime.

"Ten minutes!" called the stage manager into his head set, "Nine minutes!"

"Eight minutes!"

"Seven minutes!"

"Six minutes!"

"Five minutes!"

"Four minutes!"

"Three minutes!"

"Two minutes!"

"One minute… Set?"

Someone else from a different headset spoke, "Check!"

"Costumes?"

Another person, "Check!"

"Actors and actresses?"

A chorus of voices replied, "Check!"

"Music?"

Darcy responded into his headset, "Check!"

"Show time!"

Darcy raised his baton to the orchestra. They immediately pulled up their instruments, and looked alert. He began conducting slowly, giving them two beats before starting the overture. The music swelled, the audience leaned forward in their seats, and the show began.

**Jane and Lizzie **drove home in a daze.

"We did it!" cried Lizzie.

"Charles invited us to dinner!" said Jane.

Lizzie stopped her cheering and turned to look at Jane.

"What?" she asked.

"Charles invited us to dinner on Saturday," Jane said giddily.

"That's awesome!" replied Lizzie, "But why did he invite me, too? You guys could've had dinner alone."

"Well, it turns out that Mr. Darcy is a good friend of Charles', and is staying with him for his sabbatical, so you wouldn't be in the way at all," said Jane amiably as she pulled into the parking garage, "And besides, it's probably just a 'We Survived the First week" kind of thing."

"Very well, Jane," Lizzie said as she climbed out of the car, "But I still don't believe you."

**The week that **led up to the dinner was unremarkable. There were practices and performances, and the occasional all-nighter (for Darcy this was not "occasional"). Many felt like they were going to collapse from the strain. But, as the director said quite cheerily, this was all perfectly normal (Lizzie was sure he had had too much Starbucks that day).

Jane and Lizzie slept through half of Saturday (no performances, a rare occasion) before dragging themselves out of bed to go to the dinner.

At 6 o'clock, Lizzie and Jane pulled out of the garage. The air was cold and the sky was cloudy. Lizzie guessed they were going to have lots of rain.

20 minutes later, the pair arrived at Charlie's townhouse. Lizzie rang the doorbell, and then waited. A couple seconds later, Charles opened the door with a dazzling smile and said:

"Hi guys! Come on in!" He opened the door wider to let them pass. Charles took Jane's hand, and she blushed prettily.

He led them to the living room, where Darcy was poring over some music.

"Put away that sheet music, Darce, and let's have some fun!" cried Bingley.

"Bingley, you know I can't spare any time right now. They had to add an optional piece for Monday's performance, and frankly, I'm swamped," said Darcy, showing them the piece, "And I have to work out some stuff with the director."

"Darcy, if you don't stop working this instant, I'm going to tell them your full name!" said Charles.

"No- you wouldn't!" exclaimed Darcy.

"Oh yes I will," he replied.

"Get it over with, then," grumbled Darcy.

"You'll never believe this, but Darcy's full name is Fitzwilliam George Darcy," said Charles wickedly.

Lizzie burst out laughing. After she had calmed down, she asked Darcy:

"Why doesn't it come up like that when I google your name?"

William had his face in his hands, and didn't respond.

Charles answered for him, "Will never tells anyone his real name except his close relatives and friends."

"You bloody likely won't be one of them after this," muttered Darcy.

Lizzie burst out laughing again.

"What is it?" asked Darcy.

"I've just never heard someone say 'bloody' like that before."

"Well, then you haven't met a whole lot of Brits," said Darcy, once again staring intently at the music.

The doorbell rang. Charlie ran to open it, and Darcy muttered, "No peace anywhere."

A cold gust of air greeted Bingley, along with the shivering form of Richard Fitzwilliam.

"Let me in," Richard grunted. Charlie quickly opened the door wider.

Richard walked in, ice crystals beginning to melt in his hair.

"D-d-d-arce!" he chattered, clearly not surprised, but rather cold.

"Richard. We need to get you into some dry clothes," chastised Darcy, rather taken aback by the sudden appearance of his cousin. He led Richard upstairs.

Jane and Lizzie shared a look.

Charlie noticed, and spoke, "Sorry 'bout that. Darcy was a med major before joining the ranks of us noble music majors."

"What I'm wondering," pondered Lizzie, "is why Richard ended up here."

"I really don't know," said Charles, thoughtfully, "We'll have to hear that from him."

**10 minutes later, **Richard and Darcy came down.

"Hey guys," said Richard, looking a lot warmer, "Sorry about that 'Nightmare on Elm Street'ish entrance. I was just driving home, and it started snowing like heck. I ended up near your place and decided to get off the road so I wouldn't get hurt."

"I still think that entrance was a bit melodramatic, Richard," laughed Lizzie, "I mean seriously… 'Let me in'?"

Everyone laughed except Darcy, who had sat back down and was again immersed in the music.

"Would you stop working for once?" Richard asked him, "You don't do anything but that these days."

"Well, it is my duty as a conductor to learn the parts well and collaborate with the other people working on this production."

"But you don't have to kill yourself while doing that!" complained Richard.

"Do you think I could go to the theater now?" asked Darcy.

"What do you think?" asked Richard, "I come here, half frozen, and you ask if you can go drive somewhere. That's a straight ticket to the ER."

Darcy mumbled something indistinctly, and then turned back to his work.

Meanwhile, Charlie walked over to peer out the window. "Looks like you guys are going to have to stay here over night." He didn't seem upset at this, though. Instead, he looked like a child being told Christmas had come early.

"Well, you might want to finish dinner while you can," observed Darcy, "The power may go out soon."

**A/N: Whoo… That was a lot of typing. This chapter used up all the stuff I had written long hand. Back to the drawing board, I guess. Writers=happy when they get reviews=faster posting time… Review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey all. Long time no see! Wickedly Prideful has been put on hold until I get further along with this story. I finished a bit longhand for this one, and that's what I'm posting. I don't really like the way this chapter turned out. For those people who wanted something to "happen", here you go!**

They followed Darcy's advice and finished cooking dinner.

"These baked potatoes are really good!" exclaimed Jane. Charles gave her a peck on the cheek. She blushed lightly.

"Yeah… Thanks for inviting us," said Lizzie.

"No problem," replied Bingley.

As soon as everyone finished eating, they cleared the table. Charles dug out a box of old Girl Scout cookies and they passed the box around.

"How the heck did you end up with a box of the _good _Thin Mints?" asked Lizzie.

"Umm… I got them from Will's sister, Georgiana," Charles replied.

"Love your sister, Darcy! Tell her when you see her I want ten boxes of Samoas."

"Giana is no longer in Girl Scouts," said Darcy.

"Why not?" asked Lizzie.

"Long story," Darcy said without any playfulness in his voice. The discussion ended there.

Richard who had been surprisingly quiet, now spoke up, "Anyone up for some juvenile fun in the form of truth or dare?"

"I'm in!" said Lizzie, hoping to get away from the awkward conversation.

Jane and Charles looked at each other in amusement before deciding to join in.

"I really do need to-" Darcy began, before being cut off by Richard.

"You don't _need _to do anything," interjected Richard, "It's snowing in October for goodness sake. We might as well have some fun. And because you were the last one to join, you get to go first."

"Fine…" grumbled Darcy, "Charles: truth or dare?"

"Truth," said Charles, looking a bit queasy.

"How many girlfriends have you had, and what were their names?" asked Darcy.

"Ummmm… 12? Or 13? Anyways, their names were Laura, Emma, Natalie, Sarah, Mariah, Sylvia, Kristin, Eloise, Pam, Shelly, Jennifer, Samantha, and Erin." He cast an apologetic glance at Jane.

"Darcy: truth or dare?" asked Charles mischievously.

"Dare," Darcy said absentmindedly. He was thinking about the second phrase of the optional song and how the orchestra might mess it up, although he knew Elizabeth wouldn't.

"I dare you… To kiss Lizzie. On the lips. 15seconds," grinned Charlse.

Darcy took this with unprecedented equilibrium. He decide I might actually be quite nice to kiss her.

Lizzie? Not so much. She was really close to screaming at Charles for this immaturity, but she knew she was the one who had started it, and she was the one that would have to take the poison.

Darcy leaned towards her. She leaned towards him. And their lips touched. Darcy had never felt anything so exquisite. He wanted to sit there forever.

And then- the lights went out. Lizzie jumped up and immediately grasped her way towards Jane.

"I'll see if I can find some flashlights," said Charles. He and Darcy made their way to the kitchen.

"****," Darcy swore as he walked into a table.

"Found 'em!" exclaimed Charles, after much rummaging.

"Can you turn one of the bloody things on before my legs are killed?" growled Will, nursing his sore leg.

Charles flicked on a switch, and the yellowy light of an incandescent bulb glowed from the glorified plastic stick. "C'mon, let's go back to the others," called Charles, already making his way out of the kitchen.

"Wait up!" cried Darcy, not willing to be stuck in the dark kitchen.

**The group** eventually decided to bring down as many blankets as possible and camp in the living room for the night. Charles found some matches and candles and brought them in. As he was bringing down the blankets, Charles grabbed a book to read.

As soon as everyone was settled, Charles revealed the book. "Thought we'd have a it of fun and read this tonight." He held up a battered copy of _Pride and Prejudice._

Lizzie groaned. Why? Why? First she had to kiss Darcy, and now they had to read aloud from _that _book?

Darcy started, "_It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However little known this…_" He continued on in his soothing baritone.

Jane, Lizzie, Charles, and Richard slowly drifted off into the realm of sleep to the calming sound of Darcy's voice.

**Richard rubbed** his eyes. The room was still dark, and her guessed it to be around four. Richard glanced around the room. He could see the silhouettes of Charles and Jane snuggling close together and Lizzie lying apart from them. But Darcy- where was Darcy? Richard stood up slowly, intent on finding his cousin.

He found Will two minutes later, in the music room. Darcy was penciling something down on staff paper. He also had the keyboard headphones on.

Richard leaned against the doorframe. "'Sup, cuz?" he drawled.

"Aaah…" muttered Darcy, trying to simultaneously take off the headphones and stuff away the music.

"Lemme see!" cried Richard.

"No!" Darcy replied stubbornly.

Richard simply walked over to the drawer in which Darcy had stowed the music and pulled out the mystery piece. "Piano _and _guitar, eh?" asked Richard.

"I'm not about to compose anything new for Pemberley," replied Darcy.

"Piano's usually not featured in your pieces, though."

"I can change," Darcy said, defensively.

"And the world is going to end in 2012," responded Richard sarcastically, "I don't think so. You probably think togas and top hats are still in style!"

"Hey-!"

"It's true. The next time you change will be in the next ice age."

Richard started to exit the room. Over his shoulder he said, "But you should really play the guitar part for us. I can accompany, if you like." Richard exited the room.

**A/N: Review?**


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: A smidge more for today… I just needed to get this out there. Having massive writer's block._

After a delightful breakfast of cereal and room temperature milk, the assembled group decided they wanted a bit of music. Richard revealed his cousin's early morning songwriting, so Darcy reluctantly got out his music and guitar. Richard warmed up with a couple of scales on the piano before going into the opening chords. Suddenly, he stopped.

"How the h*** am I supposed to play this?" asked Richard.

"With practice," said Darcy, "But you can just play the simplified triads for now."

Richard grumbled but tried again. In a few minutes he had gotten down the entire song- simplified, of course.

"Ready?" he asked, and started from the top. Not long after, Darcy joined in with his guitar and vocals.

By the end, Richard was about ready to strangle his cousin. Who in their right mind puts a piece in F# (in case it doesn't show up on ffn, that was a hash/sharp mark) major?

"Hey cuz, ever heard of something called _transposing_?" asked Richard, after having to play a particularly difficult chord.

"It works best this way," replied Will.

"Tell that to your future accompanist," muttered Richard.

Darcy decided not to dignify that with a response. Instead, he focused on the end chord sequence.

When he was done, Richard lifted his hands from the keys rather melodramatically, pretending they had died.

Lizzie walked over to the window.

"Hey, Mr. Danpeir, it's stopped snowing!" she said excitedly.

"Are you really going to call me that?" groaned said person.

"As long as I feel like it," snickered Lizzie.

The room lapsed into silence.

Charles stared forlornly out the window. "I suppose you'll have to leave then," he sighed, "Do you think your car is good for the ride home?"

"We should be fine. Thanks for asking, though," replied Lizzie, smiling, "Come on, Jane. Let's blow this popsicle stand!"

Jane looked a bit embarrassed at her sister's childishness, but still smiled and waved as Lizzie pulled her out to the car.

**Opening night **of the musical for the general public went well, and the reviews were good. The show was on Broadway for several months, but towards the end of March it was time to pack up and start the national tour.

_A/N: Like I said, short. If you have any ideas whatsoever, please send them to me!_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: As a very small St. Patrick's Day present to y'all (no, I'm not from the south…), I typed up this smidgen of a chapter. Nothing much, really)_

"Travel lists are up!" Lizzie yelled excitedly as she dragged Jane into the hallway, "We made it!"

The sisters hugged each other and jumped up and down excitedly. Darcy passed them in the hall.

"All of the travel team needs to meet in Studio 5 right now," he said.

"Thanks," said Jane brightly. The three of us set down the hall.

"So," said Jane, "Why are you still at Penn? I thought you were only here for 3 months."

"The Pemberley Hall is undergoing renovations, and I've already sent out the spring season parts, so I'm set."

"And you're going to continue with P&P?"

"Seems like a good idea, considering I've learned the music."

"Here we are!" said Jane cheerfully.

Darcy held the door open for them, and they all walked into the studio. Jane and Lizzie took a seat, while Darcy went to converse with Bingley.

"How much d'ya wanna bet Darcy's really pissed off about something?"

Lizzie whispered to Jane.

"Lizzie!" Jane reprimanded, "That's not nice!"

"'It's the truth! It's actual*!'" sang Lizzie, only slightly out of tune.

Just then, Charlotte Lucas walked into the room.

"Hey Char!" Lizzie said, running over to greet her friend, "What's up?"

"The sky," Charlotte deadpanned, not missing a beat, "Oh, and the fact that Penn needs more clarinetists (A/N: That will NEVER happen ever.

Too many clarinetists.), so I'm going on tour with you guys and my boyfriend Paul Collins."

"Collins!" Lizzie said, giggling.

"What's so funny about that?" asked Charlotte playfully.

"'Lizzie, I'm twenty-seven years old**,'" quoted Lizzie.

"Ohhh... I get it now!" said Charlotte.

"Quiet please," said Mr. Bingley, "We're going to explain the travel arrangements."

Darcy and Bingley proceeded on to a very boring lecture about how Darcy would be going with the travel team and Bingley would be staying with the remaining people in the orchestra to prep for the spring season.

"… The first stop on the tour schedule is Rosings Concert Hall in Chicago," said Bingley, "You will be there for a month or so before heading off to California, to perform at the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco."

_A/N: And now for the very long author's note to explain a bunch of things that I was going to before, but completely forgot…_

_Anonymous Reviewer with no name that I could see: How old is old? _

_Ummm... [digs out notebook with backstory] about 2 years? B/c the cookies were still done by the awesome company back then (aka ABC)._

_And Lizzie googled darcy's name b/c he is a famous musician whose work she admires... Until she meets him. Dun dun dunnnnn._

_ 1Aya001: I think Lizzie's way of reacting was going over to Jane and sort of pretending nothing happened. I think Lizzie is kind of trying to block out the fact that she likes him a smidge and is turning on the hatred full blast. Darcy, on the other hand, is definitely happier about it than she is. So he really doesn't voice any complaints or anything (and besides, rude much?). He also goes off on a noble quest for the flashlights, and I think one of the reasons why he bumps into the table is that he's thinking and not concentrating. And in general, I fail at writing these kinds of romancey scenes (see my profile for more info)._

_And you can yell at me all you want about cutting the lights. I think it helped the plot along a bit to do that. If I hadn't, the stupid Truth or Dare game would go on all night=no book._

_Freezehead: Thank you thank you thank you for correcting me on the oboe tuning note thing! I shall fix it..._

_And on the F#: I looked it up in my little pocket music dictionary before writing it, and was a little unsure as to which key to use. That one had a bunch of sharps, so I chose it knowing that there were so many sharps that in might be slightly annoying to play on the black keys all the time... But I'm really glad you pointed that out!_

*- Zippididoodah, Disney.

**- Pride and Prejudice movie, 2005 starring Keira Knightley and

Matthew Macfadyen

Clarinetist joke of the post: How many clarinetists does it take to change a lightbulb?

_Only one, but he'll go through a whole box of bulbs before he finds just the right one._

_Suggestions for another instrument (in case you'd like me to stop making fun of clarinetists)?_

_And on a completely unrelated note, please try to help the people in Japan! Thanks :)_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Next stoppppp…. Rosings! Okay, so I'm still having major writer's block, so this will be even harder for me. I hate writing Hunsford because it kind of tarnishes my view of Darcy, but oh well._

"**Why do they make us** wear these idiotic button-up black shirts?" groaned Lizzie, trying to stuff one of the infamous things into her bag.

"We all needed a new concert set for P&P, and they wanted us to look completely uniform," replied Jane, "But yes, they are a pain in the butt to pack."

Lizzie laughed and kept on packing. Their apartment was in complete disarray. The women had to find everything they needed for almost a year.

**The travel team was all set and **ready to roll 2 days later. Bags were packed, tearful goodbyes were said, and instruments were loaded into the bus. Lizzie sat with her nose pressed against the window of the bus, looking out at the theater she had been at for the last couple months, and thinking back to all the good times. Not to say that she was sentimental or anything. No, it was just kind of fun to think of all the camaraderie resulting of the long nights gulping down coffee before a particularly hard show, or getting up extra early to practice those 32nd notes, no matter how much she complained.

Jane was sitting next to her with an even more glum expression. She would be leaving her Charles for an entire year! Lizzie insisted Darcy had something to do with it, but Jane couldn't think of him trying to separate them.

Charlotte sat in the row of seats behind them, holding hands with her boyfriend, Paul Collins. Paul was chattering away about how his god mother was so gracious and good, and how she was bound to invite them for dinner sometime, because: "… Her Ladyship's townhouse is just a few streets from the Orpheum. She is so condescending and gracious! She gave me this sweater."

Lizzie conspicuously used her cell phone screen as a mirror to look behind her. He was wearing a hideous yellow and purple concoction. It had puke green tuffs and featured oversized buttons. She tried to hold back a laugh.

The bus doors closed. Darcy was now walking down the aisle, looking for a place to sit. There were no other spots besides next to Jane or Charlotte and Collins, and Darcy chose Jane.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked her.

"No, of course not," replied Jane.

Lizzie was silently cursing the day her sister had grown polite (which could have quite possibly been the day she was born). Now she had to sit a seat away from the pompous jerk for an abnormally long bus ride. The world was conspiring against her.

**17 hours and 30 minutes later,** the bus full of weary orchestra members finally stopped at their hotel. They unloaded and went to their rooms, feet dragging and eyes drooping.

Lizzie collapsed on her bed. Next to her, Jane sat up reading her Austen novel: Sense and Sensibility. Even in her sleep-deprived haze, Lizzie realized that something was bothering Jane. Austen was only for comfort reading. But that could wait. Right now, it was time to sleep. Lizzie clicked off the light.

**5 days later **the show opened in Chicago. Rosings Theatre was packed with women (and a few reluctant men), the praise was plentiful, and money was made. This, however, was not enough for one William Darcy.

"The performance was acceptable. Please remember to keep the trills in order. They were slipping," Darcy announced to the orchestra. He was giving the after-show run down, telling each section what they could improve. This was always a very long list, but today Darcy needed to get out early. So he praised them (this was, for Darcy, like saying they had won the Nobel and Newbery Prizes all for on book). And he left. Not- definitely not- in line with his code of ethics, but what could he say? Aunt Cathy the ***** demanded promptness, and he was already 10 minutes late. Darcy headed out the door quickly after the talk and waived down a cab.

"**My wonderful god mother**, Ms. Catherine De Bourgh has condescended to ask Jane, Elizabeth, you and I to come for dinner!" exclaimed Mr. Collins to Charlotte, "Go gather them, we are already late."

"****," cried Charlotte, rummaging in her purse for lipstick.

"Lizzie, Jane!" called Charlotte, "Come over here!"

The summoned people made their way over to Charlotte, who was looking frantic.

"Ms. De Bourgh has invited us to dinner, and it's _right now_!" said Charlotte, who was trying to apply lipstick and talk at the same time, a very hard endeavor, "Would you mind it horribly if you came? She's a bit of a stickler for politeness, or so I've heard."

"Thanks, Charlotte," said Jane softly, "But I'm going to have to pass. I'm still a bit tired from the trip. Please send my regards."

"Lizzie?" Charlotte asked desperately, "Can you come?"

"Only because I'm your best friend," replied Lizzie, "Yes, I'll come."

Charlotte grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her to the door, where Collins had already walked out of to hail a cab.

_A/N: I made it to two pages! Phew. Anyways… Per reader request, I have researched euphonium and percussion jokes:_

_What do you do if you run over a baritone?_

_A: Run it over again, just to make sure_

_How many euphonium players does it take to change a lightbulb?_

_A: What the heck is a euphonium?_

_[And for those of you in doubt, I DO know what a euphonium is.]_

_How do you know when a drummer is knocking at your door?_

_A: The knock always slows down._

_How many drummers does it take to change a lightbulb?_

_A: "Why? Oh, wow! Is it like dark, man?"_

_A: Only one, but he'll break ten bulbs before figuring out that they can't just be pushed in._

_A: Two: one to hold the bulb, and one to turn his throne (but only after they figure out that you have to turn the bulb)._

_A: Twenty. One to hold the bulb, and nineteen to drink until the room spins._

_A: None. They have a machine to do that._

_[I'm having altogether too much fun with drummer jokes…]_

_Please support Japan!_


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Lots of confusion about the lovely little bus ride. I was writing that at 9:30ish, and that totally screwed me up. But for clarification, here are the characters and where they are now:_

_Jane: Road trip (currently at hotel)_

_Lizzie: Road trip (currently at De Bourgh's)_

_Charlotte: Road trip (currently at De Bourgh's)_

_Darcy: Road trip (currently at De Bourgh's)_

_Bingley: At Penn w/ rest of musicians (prepping for spring stuff)_

_Collins: Road trip (currently at Debourgh's)_

_Richard: Road trip (currently at De Bourgh's, my continuity failure warning light is going off like crazy here)_

**Mr. Collins, Charlotte, and Lizzie took** off their coats in the front hall. Then, they were led by a worker ("A maid in a townhouse?") into a room where they could hear quiet conversation. As soon as the door opened, all conversation stopped. The silence was deafening.

Mr. Collins, being oblivious to all of this, started making introductions, "Lizzie and Charlotte, this is Ms. De Bourgh, my noble godmother, and her daughter, Anne."

Ms. De Bourgh looked at them a bit before inviting them to sit. Lizzie guessed she had x-ray vision or something.

"And this is my nephew, Mr. Darcy," said the woman, "And my other nephew, Richard Fitzwilliam."

Lizzie had to keep herself from screaming aloud. Not only did she have to spend a dinner with Mr. Collins and his godmother, but she also had to endure it with Darcy. At least there was Charlotte and Richard.

"Oh, but we are already acquainted, godmother," said Collins eagerly, "They work with Penn!"

"Hi everyone!" said Richard, glancing at his aunt and praying she didn't do anything stupid.

Soon, the conversation started to relax a bit, and they all talked about music and orchestras. Ms. De Bourgh, being the ***** Darcy already knew her to be, made the assumption that all musicians played piano.

"Ms. De Bourgh. You realize that all musicians don't play piano, right?" asked Lizzie, irritated.

"Oh, but they should. And you _will_ go play something for us," said Catherine, menacingly.

Lizzie reluctantly went to the piano and pulled up the key cover. She started plucking out notes, hoping to get a tune somewhere. "Defying Gravity" seemed to slowly leak out of the piano.

"Scoot, Bennet," Richard said, making her move to the right more, "You want to learn the full version?"

Lizzie nodded and watched as he went through the first chord sequence: A/D A/D A/D A/C# A/D A/D in the right hand, and D/D D/D E/E F#/F# G/G for the left*.

She fumbled with it a bit before getting it down.

"Now just repeat that," said Richard. He explained the full first page by memory, but then De Bourgh said she was getting bored and wanted Richard to play something.

He chose the relatively easy Minuet in G and played effortlessly, letting him talk to Lizzie and play at the same time. "Do you think you've got those 32nds down?" he asked.

"Ga! Stupid 32nds hate me. Sure, this is a professional orchestra, but people still have trouble with 32nds. I can't believe Darcy wants it to be_ that_ perfect," Lizzie responded.

Hearing his name, Darcy wandered over. "Not talking about me, are we?" he asked them almost playfully.

"No, not really. We were just ranting on your perfectionist ideas about the 32nd notes in The Portrait Song."

"Ah yes," he said, smirking, "You need to keep those in line, or the basses will end up being all off."

"Hey, it's not our fault that Trevor keeps on coming in half a beat early!" exclaimed Lizzie.

"Yeah cuz," drawled Richard, "We don't keep time for him."

"Whatever," sighed Darcy.

Lizzie was quite surprised that he hadn't left yet. Usually at this point in the conversation he would wander away, citing some reason or another. What the **** was going on today?

**Jane booted up **her computer. No reassuring *ping *. No beep from her iChat account. Charlie didn't respond to any of her emails. Maybe Lizzie was right. Maybe Darcy was trying to pull them apart. Jane quickly shook her head at this. Darcy would never do something as cruel as that, especially to his own friend!

She climbed down from the bed and padded to the coffee maker on the counter. Soon, the gentle drip of the brown liquid started as she turned on the TV and pulled out a movie she and Lizzie had brought (actually, it was mostly Lizzie. She was the movie maniac). _Music and Lyrics. _

Twenty minutes later, Jane was sitting on the bed, warm coffee mug in hand and watching Drew Barrymore and Hugh Grant find "A Way Back Into Love." She laughed, and, for once, forgot about Charlie.

* The actual notes, for anyone who wants to try them.

_A/N: A shorty, I know, but I've got a lot of work to do. Stupid procrastination. _

_Anyways, a euphonium is basically like a baritone, but different. Kinda hard to explain. And now for some more music jokes, this post focusing on: those poor pianists._

_Why did the piano player get arrested?_

_A: He got into treble_

_Why is an 11- foot concert grand better than a studio upright?_

_A: It makes a bigger kaboom! when thrown off a cliff_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Previously:**_

_Jane mopes around the hotel room about Charlie. Darcy, Richard, Lizzie, Charlotte, and Collins are at the De Bourgh house. _

**Lizzie walked into the** hotel room quietly, wondering if her sister was asleep. There was no noise coming from the room, anyways. Jane was sprawled out on the bed, reading Mansfield Park.

"Hey Janey!" said Lizzie, trying to sound upbeat for her sister, "'Sup?"

"Fanny just rejected Henry," said Jane, looking up for a second before returning to her book, "And now Fanny is going to Portsmouth."

Lizzie sat down on the bed. Something was really bothering her sister. "Are you okay Jane?"

"Just fine," replied Jane, although her expression belied her words.

"It's something to do with Charlie," Lizzie stated, "Has he emailed you or anything?"

"No, he hasn't. And I'm thinking that maybe you were right about Darcy. Maybe he IS trying to keep us apart."

"Congrats, Jane. That was the meanest thing I've ever heard you say!" said Lizzie, moving over to pat her sister's hand, "You're lucky you didn't have to go to that De Bourgh's house. It was so boring it wasn't even funny. And Darcy just HAPPENED to be the idiotess's nephew. Four words: Most. Annoying. Dinner. Ever!"

"Count your blessings, I suppose," said Jane, her attention still on her book.

"I'm going to turn in," said Lizzie, yawning, "Can I turn off the light?"

Jane nodded, and Lizzie reached up and flicked off the light.

The next day, the orchestra decided to all go out for a late lunch at a nearby Chipotle. They walked in the brisk spring air down the road. Richard held the door open for all of them, and a rush of warm air greeted the group as they stood in line, pondering what to get.

Lizzie was lagging a bit with Jane. They were wandering the street, looking all around them at the tall buildings ("Nothing that we don't have in New York," said Lizzie, "But it's still quite awe-inspiring.").

By the time they got to the restaurant, there were plenty of people between them and the orchestra in line, so they got in behind these people. Lizzie accidentally bumped into one of them. Chipotle was clearly a local favorite.

"I'm really sorry, sir," she said, as the man turned around.

"Oh, no, it's quite alright... Is that you, Lizzie?" the man asked, a grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, George!" Lizzie cried.

"Long time no see!" he said, and they shook hands.

"'Sup with this whole jail thing?" asked Lizzie while trying to decide what to get on her burrito.

"A bit of a misunderstanding..." said George, clearly uncomfortable with the subject, "But all that matters is I'm out now."

"Did you want to sit at our table?" asked Lizzie, "I'm sure someone wouldn't mind pulling up an extra chair. "Hey Kyle," she called to an orchestra member, "Would you mind pulling up an extra chair for George?"

"No prob, Lizzie," he replied, grabbing another chair.

"Thanks," she said, grinning.

Lizzie got to the front of the line, ordered, paid, and got her food. Then, she sat down at the table with the rest of the orchestra members.

George slid in next to her. He smiled and glanced around the table, until he saw Darcy. There, he stopped. Lizzie watched the exchange with curiosity as Darcy's face turned red in fury (or perhaps embarrassment, she couldn't tell) and Wickham's face turned white.

"George... George," she said, poking him on the shoulder.

"Sorry about that Lizzie," he said, "Me and Darcy... Haven't had the best history."

Lizzie looked curious at this. "What makes your acquaintance so unbearable that you can't stand the sight of each other?" she asked.

"How well do you know Mr. Darcy?" responded Wickham.

"Truthfully? As much as I ever want to." Lizzie glanced at the man, who was sitting in a corner, not eating or talking to anyone.

"Good. Then we should understand each other," smiled Wickham, but then his smile and voice dropped, "The late Mr. Darcy had intended a priceless piano to me in his will. Instead of giving it to me, the Mr. Darcy who is at the table right now, refused to release it."

"That's horrible!" exclaimed Lizzie, "You should take him to court."

"I would, but the late Mr. Darcy wouldn't have liked that. He was truly a kind and generous man, and I wish to respect his memory."

**The performance that night** seemed like a disaster. Darcy was totally distracted, causing the orchestra to fall into chaos, the sound technicians were having mic problems, and the lead actress had broken her ankle, causing her understudy to be called in last minute, with only enough time to get into costume.

Darcy was berating himself the whole time. Why couldn't he concentrate? Sure, Lizzie might like Wickham, but she had every right to like whomever she liked. It was a free country, after all. Maybe he just needed some rest... Or perhaps a strong cup of coffee. He needed to stay up late enough to video chat with Giana before she turned in, after all.

After the show, Darcy dismissed the orchestra quickly, then went to the Starbucks right down the road. He ordered an extra tall coffee, then took the windy walk back to the hotel.

As soon as he got there, he booted up his Macbook and sipped his coffee, hoping Giana would be on. They hadn't talked face to face in weeks, and he was still particularly anxious about the shock of the Wickham incident.

He opened up the iChat app and checked his "Friends'" statuses. Giana was on! He quickly invited her to chat.

20 seconds later, the smiling face of one Georgiana Darcy appeared in glitchy video on the screen. "Hey bro," she said, waving.

"Sorry about not contacting you earlier," he said, "The whole show needed to be put back on a new stage, and the orchestra was having some problems with the new acoustics."

"That's okay," said Giana, simply happy to see him, no matter how glitchy the video was, "I heard you got good reviews. Go check out the New York Times Arts&Life section from today."

He stood up and walked over to the side table where he had carelessly tossed that day's newspaper to get out the door for rehearsal. Picking it up, he brought it back to the table with his computer. Darcy unfurled it and headed to the Arts&Life section as instructed. The article said:

_CHICAGO, Ill.- The opening of "Pride and Prejudice: A New Musical" in Chicago brought much applause from the theatre-going community._

_The Penn Orchestra has brought a superb group of musicians from New York, where they performed as an entire group. In Chicago, however, they are only utilizing 17 performers, with some from the Valley Orchestra, also located in New York._

_The cast was superb. Mr. Darcy (Colin Donnell) was played with tremendous skill. Elizabeth Bennet (Laura Osnes) seems to bring a new vibrancy to the stage unseen by many. _

_The irony of having a conductor and character with the same name is not lost on Donnell._

_"It's kind of funny. Someone'll say... Mr. Darcy, and we'll both look up," he explains, "It's quite comical."_

_This show is sure to be a success. Grab your bonnets, ladies, and your hats, men, and head out to "Pride and Prejudice: A New Musical."_

"Do you like it?" asked Giana, laughing as he put his head on the desk.

"And of course, this is what they talk about," he grumbled, "How my name is like the stupid character's. Who is this by, anyways? Some menopausal woman?"

"Wills, don't be so harsh. The story has been named "The Most Romantic of all Time," if you want a perspective on that."

"But they have to bloody expound upon a stupid name," he said.

"Okay, I should probably let you rest now. You're getting cranky. Sleep. You need it. Especially with all the pictures the press has been circulating. You look like the living dead, Will! Do try and get some sleep."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

And Darcy shut down his computer, determined to follow his sister's advice.

_A/N: Annnnnddddd… Done. Yay! I hope the newspaper article wasn't too fake…_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: This is a messed up chapter. I've decided to make two versions of the first part for those of you who don't like the slightly ridiculous. Let's call the first one Option A. Option A will consist of messed up stuff my friends forced me to put in there. Option B will be more normal… I hope._

**Option A**

**Lizzie woke up** the next morning to the sound of someone pounding on the door. Jane, being the deep sleeper she was, didn't wake up. Lizzie groggily went to the door and looked through the eyehole. It was Darcy, already impeccably dressed in slacks and a button up shirt. She opened the door.

"The orchestra is meeting downstairs right now. Didn't you get the memo?" he asked.

"What memo?" Lizzie yawned, "I thought we had today off."

"Practice, Ms. Bennet, practice. Last night was a horror."

"Fine. I'll be down with Jane in five."

Lizzie shut the door and shook Jane awake. The women hurriedly dragged combs through their hair and changed out of their pajamas. Five minutes later they reached the ground floor, where it looked like the instrumentalists were talking to the large window.

"So glad you could join us," said Darcy briskly, handing them each a tissue, "We're practicing even breathing. Go stand in front of the window and keep the tissue on it by blowing."

"But Mr. Darcy, I don't-" said Lizzie.

"Yes, I _know _you don't play a wind instrument. But each and every person in the orchestra is doing this exercise- unless you'd rather do finger pushups."

Lizzie hated pushups, so she grudgingly went to the end of the line and put the tissue on the window. She started blowing. The tissue fell in an instant. She groaned.

"Why?" she asked Alisha, the oboe player next to her.

"We must be the laughing stocks of the musical world," said Lizzie, bending down to pick up her tissue.

"Not as bad as that other group that went to New York and…" The two women chatted companionably, completely forgetting about their assignment.

Darcy stood behind them sternly. Inside, he was smiling. Elizabeth made a very pretty picture, talking to her companion merrily, the early morning sun catching on her curls. He coughed. "Excuse me, ladies. I believe we were blowing the tissues?"

"Sorry, boss!" said Lizzie, mock saluting to him. The women laughed but went back to their tissue blowing.

**An hour later,** the orchestra was finished with practice. They had blown tissues, done vocal exercises, and even run around the block a couple of times in the stiff wind.

Lizzie and Jane were shivering as they went inside. "H-h-h-hypothermia much?" chattered Lizzie.

The rest of the group was not much better off. Darcy, however, looked perfectly at ease in the cold. This was slightly creepy to the orchestra members.

Lizzie decided to go back upstairs and take a nice, hot shower. She could feel the beginnings of a headache pulsing in her temples, and she decided it would be good to have some down time. Jane decided to accompany her.

"This is the worst conductor we've ever had," said Lizzie as she picked out some sweats.

"He's not all that bad," replied Jane.

"That's what you say… I say he's out to kill us all." With this, Lizzie climbed into the shower.

**Twenty minutes later, **Lizzie exited the steaming bathroom. She found a note from Jane on the bedside table:

_Lizzie-_

_ I'm off to get some brunch. Be back soon._

_ -Jane_

Lizzie sighed and plopped down on the bed. The headache, which had disappeared briefly in the shower, now returned full force. Maybe some music would help. She pulled out her iPod and chose "I'm Yours."

Minutes later, she was napping peacefully.

**End Option A**

**Option B**

Lizzie woke up to the sound of Jane snoring softly. She groaned and tried to go back to sleep, but it evaded her. Eventually, she got up and, putting on some shoes, left Jane a note telling her she was going to get some breakfast.

Lizzie padded down the hallway and climbed into the elevator. She groggily pushed the button for the ground floor and then relaxed against the cold metal of the wall. She heard someone shuffling around a bit next to her. She looked, having not seen the person before.

"Good morning, Ms. Bennet," said Darcy, who was looking over a score for some piece or another.

"What the…" Lizzie said, almost jumping out of her skin, "You could've said something earlier."

Darcy didn't want to admit this, but he liked the picture she made leaning against the elevator wall, eyes closed, in Hello Kitty pajamas. "I figured you had seen me," he protested halfheartedly, knowing full well she had not.

"Uhuh. Really. Have you ever heard of something called 'common courtesy'? It's the style right now… So unless you wish to appear outdated, I suggest you start practicing it," retorted Lizzie.

Darcy decided not to dignify that with a response. He leant upon the wall, reviewing the last two phrases of "Fine Eyes". _Fine eyes… _thought Darcy, _Lizzie Bennet certainly has a nice pair._

When the elevator reached the lobby, Lizzie hurried off. Darcy had been staring at her, and she didn't like it. He seemed determined to find something wrong with her. Sure, she wasn't the prettiest girl of the lot, but she had some nice features. Lizzie lined up in the breakfast line behind a lady with long red hair and sandals.

Ten minutes later, Lizzie set off on the noble quest to find a table, her tray loaded with breakfast foods. The only table open was across the room, but Lizzie carried her tray with ease over to the table, where she set her tray down. A couple minutes later, she saw Darcy scanning the room, trying to find a place to sit. She saw his gaze shift over to her table and tried not to cringe. He was heading towards her. Fate was definitely cruel that day.

"Hello, Ms. Bennet," said Darcy, putting down his tray before he even asked to sit.

"Apparently you still haven't caught on… When you want to sit at a table, you _ask,_" said Lizzie, irritated.

"Whatever," said Darcy, now digging into his omelet.

Lizzie rolled her eyes. How rude could one person get? She stood up and brought her tray to the garbage can, throwing away its contents before heading back up to her hotel room.

**Jane was now **awake. She was drying her hair with a towel as Lizzie came in.

"Good morning," Jane said brightly.

"Did you have coffee or something already? Because I seriously don't think it can be that great of a morning," said Lizzie.

"What's got you annoyed, Lizzie?" asked Jane.

"Darcy. He's getting on my nerves. He was really rude this morning."

"He gets up at your inhumanly early hours?"

"I wake up at six in the morning. That is _not _inhuman."

"Sure…"

"Says the person who wakes up at eight o'clock on weekends. That's _late_!"

"Not really… Anyways, I need to get some breakfast before they run out. Be back in a few!" Jane hurried out the door.

Lizzie collapsed onto the bed. She had a killer headache.

**End Option B**

**Darcy paced nervously **outside Lizzie and Jane's door. He hoped Jane wasn't there. He had seen her leave a couple minutes earlier, so that had to be a good thing, right? Darcy knocked. He could hear Lizzie scrambling about before looking through the eyehole. She opened the door.

"What do you want now, Mr. Darcy? I've got a killer headache, and you'd do well not to get me angry right now." She rubbed her forehead.

"May I come in?" asked Darcy.

"Whatever," said Lizzie, and led him into the small room. He sat on the brown sofa in the front room. Lizzie waited for him to speak.

Suddenly, he got up, and in two long strides was way too close for Lizzie's comfort.

"Ummm… Mr. Darcy?" she asked, looking up at him questioningly.

"Please don't call me that," he whispered, and then crushed his lips onto hers.

Lizzie could only call the sensation floating. Through the haze she remembered that he was her archenemy and also her boss, but those thoughts were fleeting. She was once again floating, and she never wanted to come down.

Darcy was elated. She had to return his affections if she responded like that, right? She was just as fiery and passionate as she was in their verbal duels, and this was almost too much. He had to remember to restrain himself. He was her boss, for goodness' sake! Darcy broke the kiss, breathless.

When Darcy pulled away, Lizzie felt like she had just been snapped by the rubber band of reality. Hard. How dare he kiss her? He hated her, and she hated him! Lizzie raised her hand to slap him. And she did so. Hard.

"What the ****?" Jane said, walking in.

_A/N: Which version did you like better? Sorry about the whole last part. It's kind of a failure, so I may go back and rewrite it after the entire story is complete._


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Onward ho! Just reached the 50 review mark :) ! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed: YepItsMe, teatat, dress4m, Aya001, [anonymous reviewer with no name], Jelly Babes 101, Avanell, Christina Vladescu, Freezehead, brunette7856, Alethea R. Grey, PinkCandy, Kate, CathyKing, Monica, Narcissa 24601, 4everthankful, and . *gives virtual cookies *_

Lizzie made a mad dash for the door, leaving Darcy clutching his cheek in her wake. He gave chase too, almost knocking Jane over.

Jane, in an uncharacteristic moment, swore again. "Just knock me over, will you? You have some explaining to do!"

"No… Time…" Darcy yelled to her as he clambered toward the elevator. He cursed as he just missed Lizzie's elevator- scaring a three year-old with his mom. The mom gave him a dirty look. Darcy just tapped his food impatiently. The elevator came up again, and he almost ran on, jabbing the button for the lobby.

A minute later, he got out, looking around wildly for any sign of Elizabeth. He decided to try going around the block. He jogged out the door. Darcy chose to go right, and ran like he had a killer on his tail. He quickly caught up with Elizabeth, who was walking briskly.

"Sorry… About that…" he huffed, trying to catch his breath, and doing so remarkably easily.

"I think I'm going to need more than an apology from you, Mr. Darcy," Lizzie said coldly, "What gave you the right to do that?"

"I…" Darcy was battling with himself internally.

"Spit it out," said Lizzie, "Or I'm going to assume that you figured me the type that would go for a one night stand and drop me like a dead animal the next day."

"I… I think I love you," he said, already mentally berating himself. How could he show such weakness?

Lizzie slapped him again, "That's what they all say," she said, "They all say 'I love you' and expect you to come running into their arms."

"No, it's not like that, really!" he exclaimed, suddenly very offended that she would think he was like that.

"Then prove it," Lizzie said sarcastically, knowing he wouldn't be able to find an answer.

"I just need you trust me on this," he said.

"Yeah. Really," she said.

"If you really want to know, I'm a virgin," he growled roughly.

Lizzie looked slightly taken aback. "That doesn't explain anything…"

"So you think I'll want to waste it on a fling after all these years? That I _enjoy _wasting things that shouldn't be wasted?"

"No, but I can see you doing things very rashly!" 

"I thank you ever so much for that very high opinion of me."

"How could I think you a good human being when you separated my sister from Charles? They _love _each other!"

"What? How did I-"

"And now you deny it. I couldn't expect more of you, I suppose."

"I didn't separate them! He's my friend!"

"Then how do you explain the fact that he hasn't called, emailed, or texted Jane since we left?"

"I have absolutely no idea why he wouldn't. He's completely besotted!"

Lizzie, who was boiling with anger, didn't care anymore. She wanted to get him.

"Then what about George Wickham? How can you explain your behavior to him?" she asked, feeling confident of a win.

"What stories has he been telling now?" he growled.

"George said that you denied him a piano that was very valuable."

"Yes, that I will admit to. But you need to hear the rest of the story before you judge."

"Oh, really? I think I've got as much as I need to see that he's twice the man you'll ever be, Darcy."

"What if I told you that Wickham got money instead? He didn't want the **** piano. He just wanted the money!"

Lizzie just stood there, still seething.

"I should be returning to prepare for today's show. Have a nice day," said Darcy, storming away. How dare she?

**After the performance, **the Bennet sisters headed back to the hotel. Jane continued her reading and Lizzie turned on her computer.

"What's up with you and Darcy?" asked Jane.

"Nothing!" cried Lizzie, a bit too quickly.

"And that's why he was sitting there, clutching his stinging cheek. Of course."

"We had… a bit of a disagreement."

"If you want to keep your job…"

"I know, I know."

Jane was silent once again. Ten minutes later, she turned out the light.

_A/N: The Letter is up next… I hope you like this chapter! To ensure that the next chapter comes out in a timely manner, please review! Once I get 5 reviews, I'll make sure to post the day afterwards. Promise._

_On a completely unrelated note, I finished Script Frenzy! Or really, I just got to the page count… The script isn't actually finished._


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: Thanks for reviewing! The letter may be a bit… off. Oh well._

**Lizzie woke up** at four. She rubbed her eyes and booted up her computer, having nothing else to do. She might as well continue clearing out her inbox. The computer pinged and she clicked on the new email. It read:

To: lizbennetoflongbourn (a) gmail (.) com

From: fdarcyofpemberley (a) gmail (.)com

Subject: Explanations

Sent at 12:04 AM CST

Lizzie-

I took the liberty of getting your email from Charles. Sorry. Please don't be afraid that I'll repeat anything I said today (yesterday? As I type, it is around midnight). I just wanted to clear a few things up with you.

The first thing you accused me of was separating Charles and your sister. I admit I was originally wary of their attachment at first, but I watched Jane closely and found that she did indeed return his affections. The only reason she's on tour is that she's first flute. I wouldn't have separated them if I had a choice.

The second fault you accused me of was mistreating Wickham. It does pain me to betray the trust of the people involved, but I know you will be discreet. This is not a command, rather, an observation on your character that does you credit.

Mr. Wickham was a person I met at high school. We became fast friends, and he occasionally came over to my house. When my parents died (my mother when I was 18 and my father when I was 20) he became more of a friend than ever. My father had left him enough money for him to go to Julliard with me. Along with his college tuition, he left George a valuable piano. Finding that he didn't want the piano, George demandad money instead, which I gave him. He spent it off within days. After we graduated, Wickham and I parted ways. My sister, whom you have heard mention of briefly, was born 16 years after me. Georgiana moved in with me while I was at Julliard for the remainder of my college education after my parents' deaths. She was 4 years of age. Later, we moved back to California so I could conduct for Pemberley (I suppose conductors come from something of a dynasty of Darcys). That year, Georgiana began kindergarten and joined Girl Scouts. She enjoyed the camaraderie of the troop so much that I encouraged her in her pursuit.

10 years later, Georgiana was a Senior Girl Scout. Her troop had planned a trip to New York City, and I had volunteered to be a chaperone. We arrived in New York late at night and got cabs to the hotel. We were going to see a Broadway show the next day, and I had asked Charles (another friend of mine from college) to show us around Penn. George Wickham greeted us at the door. I was very surprised to see him, but happy nonetheless. He showed us around, and even showed us back to the hotel. I was suspicious that many of the girls were quite taken by him, but I had no evidence. After dinner at the restaurant downstairs, the girls were allowed free time in their rooms. At 11 o'clock, the chaperones called lights out and checked up on the girls. I was assigned to 2 rooms, one with Giana. I knocked on her door. No reply. I tried again. After this, I had to get out the 2nd key for the door. I quietly went in. What I saw is something you never want to see, ever. My sister was... Well... In a very compromising position with George Wickham. I was furious. I yelled at George.

That was this past summer. We took him to court, and he was charged with only a couple of counts. He got out of jail on bail I didn't know he could afford. He was out about a month after I took my post, as you know.

This is a complete record of my dealings with Wickham. If you'd like affirmation, please speak with Richard. I am leaving Penn, and as soon as you read this, I will be gone. Charles will come over here to take over, and your sister and him will be together again.

God bless. I wish you success in all of your endeavors.

-Fitzwilliam Darcy (alias Wilton Danpeir)

Lizzie sat back in her chair, her thoughts whirling around wildly. This couldn't be true! It couldn't! But for some reason, she felt she had every reason to trust him.

She had been so wrong about Wickham. _He _was the scoundrel. How dare he take advantage of Darcy's young sister? She couldn't know better- she was only in high school. But Lizzie could. She was a full grown woman- not a teenager.

And how could she accept that Jane had not been separated from Charles on purpose? But then, she realized that he had really done nothing wrong. He was harsh, but that was his way of making the orchestra the best it could be. He made them do stupid things, but it really had helped their sound. He seemed brusque, but maybe he was just shy. He was an enigma. And he needed an apology.

"Aw ****," said Lizzie, rereading the last few lines. He had left.

"That's a lovely way to start my morning," groaned Jane, just waking up, "A swearing sister."

"I just got an email… Darcy's leaving."

"What?" cried Jane.

"I said, he's leaving. And he didn't give us time to say goodbye!"

"Do you know what happened?"

"He had to go back to Pemberley to work with them a bit. He's their only conductor," Lizzie lied skillfully.

"That makes sense," said Jane, climbing out of bed, "Although I wouldn't know why on such short notice. Do you know who's going to conduct now?"

"Charles is coming in today. We should be ready for tonight's performance."

Jane looked stricken, but composed herself quickly. "I will be fine, Lizzie."

_A/N: Second chapter today! Please review. I hope that last part wasn't too abrupt (probably was)… I may change it later._

_Happy Easter!_

_Oh, and I'm looking for a beta... If you want, please review or PM me!_


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Hmmm… So you want more Jane angst, do you? That's really the only thing that's only going to happen in Chicago. By the way, the ages of the characters are as follows:_

_Darcy: 26  
Lizzy: 24  
Jane: 25  
Charles: 23  
Georgiana: 16_

"Jane!" cried Charles as he ran up to the small welcoming party assembled at the O'Hare International Airport.

"Hello, Mr. Bingley," she said frostily, not bothering to hide the hurt in her voice.

"Lizzie?" Charles asked, clearly waiting for an explanation.

"Mr. Bingley, I believe the informality of your address is quite inappropriate for colleagues," replied Lizzie, almost equally upset at him for making her sister feel like trash.

"Of course, Ms. Bennet," he replied, looking quite confused.

"The TSA threat level is currently at orange. Please do not leave any baggage unattended. Any suspicious behaviors should be reported to the Chicago Police Department by one of the phones located throughout the airport," reported the intercom for, what seemed like, the thousandth time since Lizzie and Jane had arrived. The group stood uncomfortably.

"So… Are we going leave?" asked Charles.

"Sure! Where's your luggage?" asked Charlotte, who had suddenly appeared after a short bathroom break.

"Ummm… I forget the carousel number, actually. I think they have them on the screens."

Lizzie glanced around, trying to see over the heads of people. "I think it's carousel 4," she said, heading over to it, "What does your luggage look like?"

"It's a black rolling bag," he said, looking a bit disheartened at the amount of black rolling bags.

"Anything a bit more informative?" asked Charlotte.

"I have a Penn bumper sticker on the back."

"Okay," said Lizzie, picking one up, "Is this the one?"

"Yeah, it is. Thanks, Liz- Ms. Bennet."

Charles took his bag from Lizzie, and they all headed out to hail a taxi. They all squished inside, with Charlotte sitting up front.

"Hey… Jane?" asked Charles.

"What, Mr. Bingley?" she asked.

"I… Why didn't you email me or anything?" he asked.

"_Me? _Not email _you?_" she asked, confused, "I thought you hadn't emailed me!"

"I tried emailing you a bunch of times, but I never got a response."

"Same here."

Lizzie was getting quite confused with this exchange. Then, she had an idea. "Hey, Charles?" she asked.

"Yeah?" he responded.

"Did you check the Penn server? Sometimes when the website isn't up, the email stops working."

"I didn't think to do that."

"You might want to check it out. I've been using my gmail mostly these days, so I haven't had any problems."

"Thanks," he said, now typing away furiously on his Blackberry.

Jane gave Lizzie a look. Maybe this was why she hadn't gotten any emails!

_A/N: For every 5 reviews I get for this chapter I'll post one more page on MS Word by 10:00 (pm) tomorrow! So please review!_


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: As I promised, here is another page of M&M. About the whole bringing Darcy back thing: I can either keep them in Chicago or see how Jane and Charles' relationship evolves, or we can go to San Francisco (read: Pemberley). So it's all up to you. Review and tell me what you think, please!_

Having gotten back to the hotel room, Lizzie and Jane collapsed onto the bed. Jane was still very upset at Bingley for not getting in contact with her, but she figured the servers had something to do with this twist of fate. But how could he not have called? Did he give up _that _easily?

"Hey Jane," said Lizzie, tapping her fingers on the bedspread for no apparent reason, "How much longer do you think we're going to be here? I can't wait for some warm weather."

"I have no idea," replied Jane, "I can't wait to go to San Fran, though. I hope we leave soon."

"Beaches!" said Lizzie, grinning.

"Sun," said Jane wistfully. The weather in Chicago was usually overcast and windy.

"Hey, I just got a text from Aunt Maddie," said Lizzie, looking at the screen of her phone, "She's wondering when we're going to San Francisco… And whether we'll have any spare time. She wants to see us again, and possibly do some touristy stuff."

"You got that all from one text?" asked Jane skeptically.

"Yeah… She texts with correct grammar and everything."

"That's certainly… Different."

The sisters exchanged a glance.

**After the performance **that night, the orchestra went out to dinner in honor of their returning conductor. Jane looked completely composed on the outside, but inside? Not so much.

"Char?" asked Jane, after the orchestra had started eating, "I'm not feeling that great. I don't think something agreed with me. Would you mind telling everyone that I went back to the hotel?"

"Sure!" said Charlotte, "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Jane headed out the door of the restaurant, Lizzie close on her heels.

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" asked Lizzie, a bit hurt.

"I just need some alone time, okay?" snapped Jane.

"Sheesh," muttered Lizzie, "_Okay_. Just be safe, will you?"


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: It has been decided. They shall go to San Francisco, or the author may die of suspense._

"We will be landing in San Francisco in approximately 15 minutes. The local time is 7:30, and the current weather is 56 degrees and foggy. On behalf of United Airlines, I would like to thank you for your business and hope to see you again soon." The intercom clicked off.

Lizzie pressed her nose against the cool airplane window. The California landscape stretched out before her. She could see the blue of the ocean and the hills of the legendary San Francisco. Jane was fast asleep next to her; Kindle slowly slipping out of her hand.

"Wake up, Jane! We're nearly there!" she squealed like a little girl.

"What?" her sister grunted, rubbing her eyes.

"We're here!" Lizzie repeated.

Lizzie was giddy with excitement. California! Warm weather, sandy beaches, AAAAAA!

Jane was slowly packing up her things. She yawned, slid her bag back under the seat, and went right back to sleep.

Lizzie didn't bother to wake her again. She was still staring, as the ground slowly grew nearer. She could now see cars and people and trees. And suddenly- bump!- the plane landed on the tarmac, rolling along as the captain pushed hard on the brake.

**Twenty minutes later, **the orchestra finished getting their suitcases and Charles called the bus.

"I just want to go to sleep," yawned Charlotte, "It's already 10:30 back in New York."

"Just be glad we don't have Darcy any more," said a random flautist, "He would be making us practice right now."

"I'd let him _practice _with me any day," squealed Lydia, a very young woman in the violin section.

"Lydia!" cried Lizzie.

"What?" asked Lydia, "It's true!"

"But it's just…" Lizzie grasped for a polite way to say it. She couldn't find any.

"Bus is here!" called Charles, "Remember to get the basses in first."

The orchestra filed into the bus, putting their instruments in the bottom compartment before going inside.

**Lizzie's phone **buzzed just as they pulled up to the hotel.

From: maddie gardiner  
Hey-  
I heard you're in San Francisco. Did you want to go on a bit of a South Bay tour while you're here?  
M

From: luvviola  
sure. What day do u think?

From: maddie gardiner  
What about this Sunday? I checked your show schedule, and it looks like there are no shows then.  
M

From: luvviola  
sounds good. I'll tell j

From: maddie gardiner  
Thanks! I'll tell Mark.  
M

"Lizzie," said Jane, "We're getting out."

"Oh, sorry," replied Lizzie, putting her phone in her pocket and standing up.

"It's fine," replied Jane.

The sisters unloaded themselves and dragged themselves into the hotel. The orchestra had assembled in the lobby.

"Everyone!" Charles announced, trying to get them quiet, "We're going to unpack and take today off, but tomorrow we have to start practice down at the Orpheum. Please be ready at 7:00 tomorrow."

The orchestra groaned.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: Alas, the horror of spring cold season is upon us. I was out from Wednesday to Friday, and was too lazy to go over to the computer to type stuff up. Instead, I wrote it on my iPod._

"_Ev'ry so often we long to steal_

_To the land of what might have been_

_But that doesn't soften the ache we feel_

_When reality sets back in…"_

_-I'm Not That Girl, Wicked. (c) Stephen Schwartz_

**True to Charles'** word, the orchestra began practice at 7:00 the next day. It was almost disorienting for them not to have Darcy's constant criticism shoved at them.

"Is it just me, or does it seem like we're slipping?" asked Lizzie during the 5 minute water break.

"Not to be rude to Charles or anything, but yeah. The trills have gone into disrepair, the cellists are off on their intros, and the winds are over blowing," agreed Mary.

"I think Darcy was just really mean. He didn't do anything to improve our playing!" argued Lily, violinist also.

"You never practice," retorted Mary.

"You practice horribly."

"Elephants could play better than you."

"Cut it out, guys!" cried Lizzie, "It was an innocent question… Sheesh…"

"We've got time to run through Fine Eyes once more," called Charles.

"Coming," the rest of the orchestra responded.

**Darcy stood at **the front of the room of musicians, waiting for them to settle down a bit. "Okay, can everyone get together?" he asked.

The Pemberley Orchestra quieted down as Darcy passed out a new piece. This one was planned as a last minute song for the next set of concerts they were doing. Oddly enough, there was a viola solo in the middle.

"Auditions will be held at 4:00 tonight," Darcy said, "For the solo, I mean."

Even more odd than the solo was that it was composed by the conductor himself. This was a very strange turn of events. Darcy _never _composed. Ever.

"For now, let's just run through. Then we can get to the tricky spots," announced Darcy, positioning himself back at the conductor's podium.

**Five hours later **Darcy drove back to his in San Jose. "I'm home!" he called, a small, sorrowful smile spreading over his face as he realized what might have been. But this wasn't the time to dwell on that. He had to take care of his sister. No, the introspection would come later.

"The Giants are down 2- nothing!" said his sister from the den.

"No…" he groaned, both at Giana's obsession with the team and the fact that they were probably going to lose. Darcy headed into the den.

Giana was lying with her back on the armrest of the couch, a bowl of pasta in her hands as she watched Buster Posey strike out. Again. She put her bowl down on a TV table and went to hug her brother. "I'm so glad you're back," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"I am, too," he replied, "Didn't blow up anything while I was gone, did you?"

"Nope. All through those months, and I didn't destroy, damage, or otherwise mutilate anything. Aren't you proud?" she asked sarcastically.

Darcy had arrived the night before around midnight. Giana had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for him, so he carried her upstairs and went to bed. The next morning he had to be up at 5 for work, so he really hadn't seen her until now. "I always am…" he said.

Giana pretended to choke, "To… Much… Sentimentality…" Then she stopped, "Wait. How did you become so sentimental? Is it a girl?" she asked, not so sneakily.

"No!" he said, almost a bit too fast.

"It IS, then. Who?" she asked. When he didn't respond, she replied, "I wanna know!"

"There isn't one," he said, "And besides, if there was one, I'd have introduced you already."

"Good. You've got your priorities straight, then," Giana said, going back the couch and grabbing her pasta, "Mrs. Reynolds made some killer pasta primavera. You should try it," she said, waving her fork enticingly.

"Of course," he said, grabbing a bowl and spooning the noodles and vegetables into it with an air of distraction.

"Come on… What is it?" Giana asked, noticing he nearly missed the bowl more than a couple of times. And it wasn't because he had his eyes on the television, either. He was staring off into space.

"I'm just a bit tired," he said, "The jet lag is getting to me."

"Maybe we should go to bed early tonight," she suggested, "I have finals tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan to me," he replied, yawning.

**Later that night,** Giana got up to make some tea. She couldn't get to sleep. Wickham seemed to pop up in her mind every time she lay down, and this was very upsetting. Why couldn't the guy just stay away? As she put the cup into the microwave, she thought about her brother. He said there wasn't a girl, but he acted like it. Darcy just didn't get jet lag. No matter how many music conferences he went to, he always went to bed at 10:30. No earlier. This had to be something serious.

The microwave beeped, and Giana pulled her steaming cup of tea out. She climbed the stairs again, sipping carefully as she climbed. She could hear her brother in the other room… But it didn't sound like he was awake. She could hear the bed creak as he tossed and turned. He seemed to be saying something. Giana opened the door slowly and peered inside. He was mumbling something, and his face was completely overtaken by pain.

"Lizzie… Don't go…" he said. Darcy repeated this mantra, each time getting louder and louder.

"Will?" Giana asked tentatively. When he didn't respond she poked him and said, "Will! Wake up!"

"Huh?" he asked, trying to appear as if he hadn't just had a nightmare. He couldn't scare Giana. She was too vulnerable.

"Will, I _know _you had a nightmare. There's no point in hiding it," Giana said, sitting next to him on the bed, "Who's this Lizzie? And why are you so afraid of her leaving?"

"Shall I start from the beginning?" Darcy asked, realizing his sister would not give up, no matter how much he tried.

"Yes," Giana said, getting comfortable. This would be a long night.

Darcy told Giana all about his acquaintance with Lizzie…

_A/N: … Which shall be continued tomorrow. I'm behind as it is with work and stuff. P.S.: If I get 10 reviews, I'll update by Saturday. 15, by Friday._


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: My deepest apologies for not updating sooner. Yes, I had a 3 day weekend. _

"_Though it's clear_

_Though it was always clear_

_That this was never meant to be_

_If you happen to remember…"_

_-"Think of Me," Phantom of the Opera (c) Andrew Lloyd Weber and all those other people who wrote it…_

"So let me get this straight," said Giana, some time later, "Lizzie is a violist in the Penn orchestra, whom you _love. _Completely coincidentally, you just happen to be working on the Pride and Prejudice Broadway premier. If this is going to swing towards the way the book goes, I imagine she's going to end up somewhere near the concert hall on one of the off days."

"I wish," said Darcy. At least his sister hadn't totally killed him- yet. She knew he had been an imbecile, "But how can I expect that? I was a complete a** h***, and she knows it."

"No, you were not," said Giana, "You are the best brother ever. If she can't see how good you are, then she doesn't deserve you."

"Thanks for the encouragement, but I really don't think it's going to happen." He put his arm around her shoulders, "I don't think you're going to have a sister anytime soon."

Giana got a fierce look in her eyes that seemed to be a Darcy trait. "Yes, I will. If you don't at least try…" She shook her head, "If for nothing else, do it for me. I would dearly love to have a sister."

"What you want and what she wants doesn't exactly match up."

"So you say. I'm going to call Mrs. Hill in the morning and ask for the scheduled tour groups."

"Whatever."

**Giana did **indeed call the Pemberley tour director. There was not a single mention of the name Bennet.

"I tried," she told her brother, "You can look if you want. There's nothing there." She held out a piece of paper onto which she had copied down the names and times of each tour. It read:

Sun.  
11:00- Phillips, Oatman, Tran  
2:00- Lee, Campbell, Gallegos  
5:00- Gardiner, Wong, Smith  
NOTE: Concert at 6:00

**Sunday arrived quickly**, and Lizzie was whisked off for a tour of the South Bay. Jane would be spending the day with Charlie (they found out that it was, indeed, the server).

Contrary to her beliefs, San Francisco was always a bit chilly. Once you got away from the ocean, it started to warm up a bit. Mark, being ever the techie, insisted on visiting the Apple campus.

"Why don't they just put a big sign out somewhere instead of keeping this small one in the bushes?" asked Lizzie, trying to squeeze in while her aunt took a picture of the two other travelers.

"It's all about simplicity," Mark replied.

"Come on," said Maddy, "We've only got a couple of hours before the tour of Pemberley." She looked almost giddy.

"Wait… What?" cried Lizzie.

"I didn't tell you?" responded Maddy, "I got us into one of the tour groups for the Pemberley concert hall."

"Oh no… I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"It's, ummmm…" said Lizzie, trying to come up with an excuse, "They might think we're trying to steal ideas from them."

"That's quite silly, Lizzie. You're just visiting. And besides, they only have tours on break days."

_A/N:_

_At anonymous person with no name: You can hear most beds move... _

_5 reviews? Will post more tomorrow if I get them!_


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: I was reading the last chapter I had posted a couple of nights ago, and realized that it's very confusing, so I'm probably going to go back and edit it later. For the sake of time, here's a little summary of where everyone is:_

_Jane is with Charles somewhere in San Francisco.  
Lizzie is with her aunt and uncle, and they are heading over to the Pemberley concert hall.  
Note: The Penn Orchestra has the day off._

_P. S. Sorry about the short chapter, will be longer next time._

**Lizzie, Maddie, and Mark** arrived at the Pemberley concert hall parking lot. People were milling around out front, talking on cell phones and taking pictures.

"What's going on?" asked Lizzie.

"Looks like the orchestra just got out from an emergency practice," Maddy suggested, getting out of the beat up pickup truck.

"Then what're all the picture takers doing here?"

"That looks like the rest of our group."

**Mrs. Reynolds **(who we know, but Lizzie doesn't) showed the group into the softly lit lobby. "Welcome to the Pemberley concert hall," she said, smiling warmly, "We'll begin our tour shortly, but could you first drop off your bags at the coat check?"

Everyone complied, and pretty soon the group made its way down a couple of steps and through a heavy set of metal double doors. The group stared in wonder at the dark concrete halls, while Lizzie glanced around, a bit bored, but still on edge. This was exactly like the Netherfield hall, so nothing really was all that exciting. The one thing that was worrying her was that Darcy might be somewhere in there. The group continued moving, and Lizzie, feeling she could find her way if she needed to, decided to go off for a bit on her own.

**Darcy walked off **the stage where the orchestra had been practicing. He walked over to a studio to have a bit of a break. As soon as he sat down in a chair, memories of Lizzie came swooping down to snatch him. Of her, laughing with Richard, or talking playfully with her sister, or even her, looking beautiful, even when she was angry.

The hurt wasphysically painful. It just hurt, hurt so much to know that he was rejected. Rejected by the only one he could ever be with. He probably wouldn't see her again, even. Never gaze upon her face, hear her laughter, catch her voice among the orchestra members. He was resigned.

Because of a concert later that night, Darcy had to be at the concert hall the entire day, finishing last minute preparations. But even he needed a break now and then. Darcy sat down at the piano bench. He opened the cover of the piano and placed his hands lightly on the gleaming keys. They automatically moved to the opening chords of a piece he was messing with a bit- _Hallelujah._

_I heard there was a secret chord  
That David played and it pleased the Lord  
But you don't really care for music, do you?_

Darcy smiled painfully. The day when his Lizzie disliked music would be the day when the world ended.

_It goes like this  
The fourth, the fifth_

_The minor fall, the major lift_

_The baffled king composing Hallelujah…_

**Lizzie stood at **the doorway, peering inside the room. There was someone playing the piano and singing- it was a voice she could recognize anywhere. She wanted to run. She wanted to get away before he saw her. But she was rooted to the spot. The pure emotion poured into the song was amazing.

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch  
Love is not a victory march  
It's cold, and it's a broken Hallelujah_

The last refrain was nearing. Lizzie waited in breathless anticipation. The song came pouring out of the player and the instrument. His voice was raw, yet his playing was flawless. She was completely overcome by emotion.

**Darcy rested his **hands in his lap, and let out a choked sort of sound. Silent tears streamed down his face. This would have to be closure. He could never win her good opinion. Hope was irrational now. He would go home. No one could see him like this.

He groped around the room for a box of tissues, and finding none, made to leave for the restroom. As he opened the door, he saw someone. Someone who shouldn't have been there. Was he seeing things? Yes, he must certainly be delusional. She couldn't be here. Obviously the emotional exhaustion was getting to him.

But if he was delusional, how could it be that she was saying his name softly, apologizing for intruding, stepping away from the door to let him through.

"Lizzie?" he asked, a sheen of tears covering his eyes and blurring his vision.

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Darcy. I shouldn't be here. I just got separated from my tour group…" she said.

NOTE: I don't own _Hallelujah. _That belongs to Leonard Cohen...


	24. Chapter 24

The hallway fell into complete silence. The two occupants were looking down at their shoes.

_What should I do? _thought Darcy, _Maybe she doesn't want to talk to me. But if I don't talk, she'll think me arrogant all over again._

"How are you?" he asked, gesturing for her to come into the room.

_Better than you, _Lizzie thought, but said, "Fine, thanks."

"That's really good… How's Jane?" asked Darcy. He was running out of things to talk about quickly. It was embarrassing enough for her to walk in on him right then, but this could almost rank higher on the embarrassment scale.

"She's doing well. Charles and her are hitting it off. My aunt and uncle invited her to come with ous, but she decided to spend the day with him."

"How are you liking San Francisco?" asked Darcy

"It's really nice here," said Lizzie, "Although the weather wasn't all it's cracked up to be."

"The only weather we have here is rain, fog, and clouds. Anything else is global warming or something," Darcy joked, smiling weakly.

"It's California, though," Lizzie argued, "Aren't you guys all supposed to be tan, eat tofu, and wear Birkenstocks or something?" She laughed.

"Yes to the tofu part, no Birkenstocks, and tanning isn't healthy," said Darcy.

"Good to know you're not a stereotypical Californian," said Lizzie, smiling brightly at him.

Darcy wanted to hold onto this moment forever. Standing there, talking to Lizzie, even if for the last time. He just wanted it to last.

Soon, the pair heard footsteps coming down the hall. Lizzie heard her aunt's voice calling her, and she stepped out of the room to greet her. Darcy ollowed suit.

Lizzie made the introductions, "Aunt, this is Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, this is my waunt, Maddy Gardiner."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Gardiner," said Darcy shaking her hand.

"Lizzie has told me so much about you," she replied.

"Hopefully those things weren't all bad," he said, half joking.

Lizzie blushed. Now she would have to explain her previous attitude toward him. How she had gotten him completely wrong.

"I hope… I mean, if it would be convenient…" said Darcy, working up his courage. He must make a favorable impression, he must! "I'm wondering if you'd like to have dinner after the concert with my sister and I."

"That sounds lovely," said Mrs. Gardiner, "Let me check with my husband." She strode down the hall and returned a second later with her husband, who had snuck off to examine the soundboard.

"Sounds good to me!" said Mark.

"If you'd like them, I have a couple of tickets to the next Apple announcement at Moscone. I usually don't go to them," offered Darcy.

"You do?" asked Mark, almost jumping up and down in delight.

"Sure," said Darcy, "I'll bring them tonight."

Mrs. Gardiner and Lizzie had grown a bit tired of the techie talk, so they said goodbye to Darcy and dragged Mark to the parking lot. Darcy had become Mark's new hero, although he insisted he was too old for "heroes."

"Maybe I'll get to meet Steve Jobs!" he said.

Lizzie was glad for the distraction. This meant she could fully mull over the afternoon without her aunt questioning her. She couldn't believe this was the Darcy she knew, the one who yelled at people during practices, who thought himself above everyone else. The one who sat there on the piano bench in the room, crying like he had lost a loved one. This was definitely a strange twist to her understanding of him. How could the sensitive, funny, and shy man be the same as the uptight one she had seen so many times before? It didn't seem to add up. Perhaps he was just shy, not proud. Maybe he wanted everyone in the orchestra to do their best, so he yelled at them. Maybe this was his way of hiding his insecurities.

"**Giana!" **Darcy cried as soon as he closed the door to his home.

"Eat my dust!- Oh, hey, bro," said Giana as her brother walked into the den. She was playing Super Mario Kart.

"What? No hug?" he asked jokingly.

"I'm nearly past Donkey Kong- I can't stop!" she said, but paused the game anyways and went to hug her brother, "How was your day? See your Lizzie appear at work?"

Darcy gave her a twisted smile, "As a matter of fact, I did."

"What?" she gasped, "You saw her?"

"Yes."

"Well, how was she?"

"Pretty good."

"Is that what you really think?"

"I don't think she's getting much sleep."

Giana laughed, "Only you would notice that. Charles would be going on about how his latest girlfriend looks so beautiful."

"Over all, she was doing quite well it seems," he replied.

"Well, am I going to meet her?"

"We're having dinner with her, her aunt, and her uncle after the concert."

_A/N: … Which sets the stage for the next chapter. Again, rather short. Currently caught up in some other writing, which actually (gasp) has a deadline. Want more? Please review, and for the people who have a bit of a silly imagination, please check out my M&M Blooper Reels._


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N: (bangs self over head) I have neglected this story long enough. Off to dinner!_

"What do you say to taking chances?  
What do you say to jumping off the edge?  
Never knowing if there's solid ground below  
Or hand to hold…"  
-_Taking Chances, _Kara DioGuardi, Platinum Weird, Celine Dion

**Mr. William Darcy **of Pemberley Orchestra couldn't care less that it was raining buckets as he stepped out of his car. He didn't notice the way the door creaked as he opened it to enter the backstage area. He was grinning, and there was nothing that could stop him.

"Good evening," he said to the orchestra, walking into the set-up room.

They all looked a bit startled at the director's almost carefree appearance. A chorus of 'Hi's' and 'Hello's' swept through the room.

"I hope you're all rested from this morning's ordeal and are ready to perform," he continued, "We're on in ten minutes."

The strings continued to tune, while the winds crowded around to figure out the recent music change in the second set.

**Lizzie and the Gardiners **headed over to the concert hall, once again in the beat up pickup.

"Do you know what they're going to be playing?" Lizzie asked.

"Absolutely no idea. I think they kept the music a complete secret- it _is _opening night, you know," replied Mrs. Gardiner, looking at her niece through the rearview mirror.

**Darcy and the orchestra **stepped out onto the stage as the last of the audience entered the hall. He scanned the faces quickly, hoping to find _her _eyes and smile. There she was, just to the left of center stage, reading the program intently. He quickly cleared his throat a bit and turned to the orchestra, who were all seated and ready.

After a few introductory words, the concert began. The program that Lizzy was holding looked something like this:

**Symphony #7 In A, Op. 92 **_Beethoven  
_**Eine Kleine Nachtmusik **_Mozart_

_**There will be a short 15-minute intermission. **_

**Troubled Waters **_William Darcy_**  
The Four Seasons **_Vivaldi__**  
**_**El Choclo **_A.G. Villoldo  
_

**After the concert, **Lizzie and the Gardiners waited in the lobby for the Darcy siblings.

Soon enough, Giana and William emerged from the backstage door. Mr. Darcy made introductions.

"Giana, this is Maddy and Mark Gardiner, and their niece, Elizabeth Bennet. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Elizabeth, this is my sister, Giana," he said.

"Hi, Miss Bennet," said Giana politely, "May I call you Lizzie? I feel like I know you already, with all that my brother has said."

"I hope he hasn't said anything too bad," Lizzie joked, "And yes, you can call me Lizzie. It feels weird for anyone to call me "Miss Bennet.""

Mr. Darcy smiled at his sister and her new friend. He was amazed at how easily Giana took to Lizzie. "Shall we get going?" he asked the group.

"I'm starving," said Giana, "Let's go."

_A/N: Sorry about the shortness of the chapter! I'll post the YouTube links to the songs in the program on my profile… Eventually. On a completely unrelated note, I'm going to post 2 or 3 other songs that I made up for Night's Air on my profile._


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N: Thank you for your patience…_

The group drove over to the restaurant. Thankfully, Darcy had reserved a table. It was very crowded, especially for a Sunday evening.

"I like the restaurant choice, Darcy. Bucca's all the way!" said Lizzie laughingly.

"It's a good place for groups," replied Darcy, "I took Pemberley here right after I left."

The table grew silent as they looked at the menu.

Giana spoke up, "Can we get the lasagna? It's to die for."

"Sure! Lasagna sounds great," said Lizzie.

They ordered, and the food arrived in a timely fashion.

"To another year full of music!" said Mr. Gardiner, raising his glass. They toasted.

Halfway through her second slice of lasagna, Lizzie's cell phone started to ring. She looked at the screen. "Sorry guys, I have to take this one," she said, rushing out the door. It was Jane.

"'Sup, sis?" asked Lizzie.

"Lizzie… Lydia has run away with Wickham."

The world seemed to go in slow-mo. Lizzie gaped and didn't reply for a minute.

"You still there, Lizzie? We're trying to contact her, but we can't get anything. She's doing a solo in the middle of Act I! What're we supposed to do?" asked Jane, starting to hyperventilate, a definite departure from her usually calm self.

"Yeah, I'm still here. Don't hyperventilate, Janey, we'll find someone else for that solo. But Wickham needs to be dealt with."

"Can you come back soon?"

"As soon as possible. I'll just tell the Gardiners and Will that I need to come back. See you soon!"

The line went dead.

Lizzie sat on the bench in silence. She didn't notice the tears trickling down her face. It was all her fault. She should have exposed Wickham. Even though she was not on the best of terms with Lydia, the orchestra had a sort of bond. They looked out for each other.

Lizzy heard someone sit down beside her. She turned.

"You okay?" asked Darcy, brushing away a tear from her cheek.

"Lydia has run away with… With… Wickham. And she's doing a solo in the middle of Act I! How are we supposed to do anything without her?" said Lizzie.

Darcy stood up abruptly and started pacing. "So the girl with the long, blonde hair? I remember her…" He trailed off, not wanting to offend Lizzie.

"Exactly. And she was really annoying, but she's in the orchestra! I have to help."

"I suppose you'll want to get back to the hotel."

"That'd be nice."

"I'll tell your uncle and aunt. Don't worry about the bill."

"Thank you," she said.

_A/N: Reenter Wickham._


	27. Chapter 27

The ride home was a blur of tears for Lizzie as her aunt and uncle tried to comfort her.

"It'll be fine," said Maddy, "This Lydia has to be a big girl."

"Everyone is forced to grow old, but not everyone matures," Lizzie muttered, "Why couldn't I have warned everyone? He's a complete scoundrel."

All her aunt could do was pat her niece's back and murmur words of encouragement.

"If it means that much to you, we'll look for her too," said Mark.

"Thank you so much!" said Lizzie, a bit cheered up.

**Lizzie entered** the hotel room to find a harried Jane holding her head in her hands.

"I've contacted the authorities. They don't know where she is. I called all the bars in San Francisco, and they don't know where she is, either," cried Jane.

"It'll be okay, Jane," said Lizzie, "I'm going to try the hotels."

**Five hours **and multiple phone calls later, Lizzie still had not located Lydia. Jane was passed out on the bed, having fallen asleep with her phone in her hands.

Darcy wouldn't come back to Penn after this, Lizzie was sure. The scandal Lydia's thoughtless behavior could cause- especially if she had eloped- would send ticket sales plummeting.

She decided to check her email. Twenty new messages. She opened the application up and scanned the list. Spam, spam, spam… LYDIA? Quickly, Lizzie read through the message.

Hey liz,  
Me n wick r having the time of our lives. U jealus yet? N e ways, hope u guys rnt worrying 2 too much, but if u r, just stuff it. I'll be back 2mrw 4 the performance.

Hugs,  
lyds

Holy cow. Lizzie quickly typed up a reply and sent it, then got to work forwarding it to the orchestra, Darcy, and Matt.

Hi all,  
Here's a small lead on Lydia's whereabouts. If you can figure anything out from this, please please do so ASAP.

Liz  
(forwarded message)

**Matt heard the *ding* **of his phone and pulled it out quickly. It was Lizzie.

"Hey Maddy," said Matt.

"What?" Maddy mumbled from the passenger seat. They had been scouring the hotels, trying to find out if they had gone as far as San Jose.

"I think I have something…" he logged into Facebook and quickly did a search on Lydia's email. Her account came up; he tapped it, and- "YES!"

"I repeat, what?" asked Maddy again.

"They're at a hotel called The Riley. It sounds like it's in the seedier part of San Fran…"

**Darcy walked **up to the dirty building, pushing open the door to the smell of stale air and cigarette smoke. _And they say smoking inside was banned in California._

"Ello," the man behind the counter of the dimly lit lobby grunted.

"I'm looking for a Lydia Bennet and a George Wickham?" asked Darcy.

"I'm not supposed ter say," replied the man, smiling a rather disgusting smile.

"You've got one hundred big ones if you tell me where they are."

The man held out an oily hand for the money.

"No, the money comes after."

"Fine. They're in room 315. Do ya wanna go up?"

"Yes."

The man led him to a rickety elevator that clunked up to the third floor. He took out a small key, inserted it into the keyhole of 315, and held his hand out for the money once again.

"Thank you," said Darcy, giving the man the money.

The man grunted in response, opened the door, and left.

"Hello?" Darcy called into the room. _I really don't want to know what the noises coming from the bedroom are._ But everyone has to do unpleasant things at some point in time, and this was Darcy's time.

"WICKHAM! Show your ugly little head, or I swear-"

The bedroom door opened with a loud creek. Both Lydia and Wickham were completely undressed, and Darcy saw, rather disgustedly, that Wickham wasn't wearing any sort of _protection. _

"What the h*** do you want, Darcy?" asked Wickham.

"Give up the girl."

"No can do. We're having too much… Fun."

"Give up the girl, Wickham. What do you-?"

Darcy heard someone else enter the room and turned around. The Gardiners stood in the doorway, looking repulsed at the sight of the couple.

"Who're you?" asked Lydia.

"We are Lizzie's aunt and uncle. She's very worried about you, Lydia," said Maddy.

"$10,000," said Wickham.

"That's fine. I'll write a check and mail it to you. You'd better not do this again," said Darcy, glaring at Wickham. To Lydia he said, "Come on, let's go."

He gathered her clothes, forced her to put them on, and herded her out of the door. As an afterthought, he added to Wickham, "And if I seriously tolerated violence, I would be punching you to the moon. But I _will _be calling the police on you, Wickham."

"No word of this to Lizzie, okay?" muttered Darcy to the rest of the group, finally heading out of the door.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner exchanged secret smiles.

_A/N: Sorry about the brevity. This is yet another chapter I may write again…_


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: What you must think of me! Total neglect… Sigh. I've finished NaNoWriMo (yay!) and can now spend time on all the fanfictions that I've neglected dreadfully. But I'm planning on tweaking it a bit and turning it into a fanfiction to post on here once I'm done. And I might as well do comments now…**

**Adel Landman:  I ponder this too… Ummm… Let's pretend they are actually really obsessed with that kind of thing. Or, you know, wait until I edit the story. :D**

**Daughters: Revisions are necessary. It's almost like my Nano novel- I write it down, then think about it later.**

**Jelly: I think he just wanted to get out of there. I certainly would.**

Lizzie woke up in her bed at the hotel, wondering why it was so bright. The light streaming through the window was harsh on her eyes. She looked around. Where was Jane?

"Hey, Lizzy," said Jane, walking in with a sunny smile on her face.

"What time is it?" asked Lizzy, "And where's Lydia?"

"Lydia's in her room, and it's twelve noon," said Jane, "I brought you some lunch."

"Thanks," said Lizzie, sitting up and stretching a bit before accepting the food*, "Do you know how she got back?"

"Aunt and Uncle Gardiner found her at a hotel," said Jane, picking up her copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird _and putting it carefully away in her bag.

"I guess they found a lead or something," said Lizzie, "Why are you packing up?"

Jane threw a shirt that was hanging on the clothing rack into her suitcase, "We struck the set this morning. We're leaving."

"What?"

"Charlie thought it would be a good idea to leave a bit ahead of schedule to beat the news about Lydia," said Jane, "Hopefully, it won't make it anywhere, but one doesn't know."

"That was a fast change of plans," said Lizzie, "I'll start packing."

**Two hours later, **Penn Orchestra was all loaded up and on the road. Their next stop was… (A/N: This is where you come in. I have no idea whatsoever as to what to name this place, so you'll need to help me out by suggesting a name…) Lizzie kept checking her phone expectantly, hoping to have something from Darcy- anything. But there weren't any texts, nor were there any calls. Lizzie calmed herself a bit. It was only one day since the fiasco with Lydia. Of course he'd not call yet. But as the hours slipped by, Lizzie began to doubt this more and more. She was associated with a tainted orchestra. Of course he wouldn't want to associate with her!

She leaned back in her chair a bit, closed her eyes, and dozed off into an uneasy sleep.

**With the dawn of the next day, they had somehow** made it to Texas. Lizzie didn't know the drive was so short, but even though she had had lots of sleep, she felt as tired as if she had stayed up all night.

"We're not helping with set today, right?" she asked Jane groggily.

"You didn't sleep?" asked Jane curiously, "But yes, we're setting today. If you want, I can cover for you. We've got some of the tech guys from the theater to do a lot of the dirty work."

"That's good," yawned Lizzie, "I never knew that sleeping could be so tiring."

**A/N: Horrendously short chapter, I know. But if you all comment on what you think the name of the theater should be, I'll get the next chapter up with two thousand words at least, within the next month.**


	29. Chapter 29

_When you're dreaming with a broken heart_

_The waking up is the hardest part_

-_Dreaming With a Broken Heart _by John Mayer

**Lizzie's sleep**, however troubled it might have been, was nothing compared to Darcy's torment. He couldn't believe he had let her get away _again. _But then, she probably still hated him.

Her hate, he mused, was probably better than her thankfulness. After she found out he had discovered Lydia, Lizzie would probably want to thank him. He didn't want that. Darcy just wanted her love.

_Likely story, Will! _he thought to himself. _Lizzie will never love you. She said so quite clearly. _

Another side of him didn't want to listen to his arguments. This side wanted her thanks, her presence, even if her affection was fake. But he knew he could never do that to _his _Lizzie. She couldn't resign herself to that fate. He wouldn't allow it.

"Hey, big bro," said Georgie, poking her head into his room, "You okay?"

"Fine," he said.

"How's Lizzie?"

"She left."

"What? Why?"

"Charles decided to cut the San Francisco run a bit short because of an incident with one of their instrumentalists."

"That's too bad. I really liked her," commented Georgie.

"So did I," he muttered. He stared at his hands forlornly.

Georgiana realized he was sinking back into himself. This was not a good sign.

_One week later_

**The first **impression Lizzie got of Texas was _hot. _It was a sticky hot, the type that ends up drenching your clothes with sweat. Perhaps it was all that mild California weather.

As she wandered up and down streets lined with stores, licking an ice cream cone, she came to a few conclusions. Darcy would have to contact her first. She didn't know if he still cared for her, so she was going to leave the ball in his court. Lizzie also needed to get the scoop on Lydia. How had her aunt and uncle been able to find her so quickly? Why would Lydia elope, anyway? She didn't need the money- Penn payed a decent salary, and Wickham, the scoundrel, probably didn't have much stored up.

Lizzie checked her watch. Thirty minutes until they were expected for the first matinee performance. _Skittles. _She had lost track of time. Lizzie took off at a run down the sidewalk, glad that most people were inside to avoid the heat. She arrived at the hotel ten minutes later, heart pounding and legs aching. More exercise was obviously going to be a priority.

She walked into the elevator, pressed the button for her floor, and waited as it buzzed and _tinged _its way up. Lizzie charged out, nearly running over a tall figure. She muttered a quick "sorry!" and continued on her way. She got to her room, took out her room key, and slid it into the slot. Nothing. She tried again. Same result. After trying about 25 times, pleading with the door, and swearing at it, she realized there was nothing that could be done.

Her phone rang, and she picked it up quickly. "Hello?"

"_Lizzie! _Where are you...? Charlie's really worried about you," said Jane.

"Could you tell Charlie that I'm probably not going to be able to make it on time?" Lizzie asked, now running down the stairs to the lobby.

"What's your excuse?"

"I lost track of time while I was wandering this afternoon, okay? And now my room key isn't working, so I've got to get a new one. Hopefully I'll be able to make it before _The Netherfield Ball." _

"I'll tell him... We're starting. See you later!" said Jane hurriedly, ending the call.

Lizzie talked to the front desk person for a few minutes before being able to obtain a room key. She dashed up to her room, changed in record time, put her hair into a messy bun, and grabbed her viola and music. She hailed a taxi, climbed in, and got to Dallais Theatre ten minutes later.

The back entrance was partially obscured by a bush, but Lizzie was still able to find it, punch in the key code, and open the door. A blast of mercifully cool air met her, partially because it was all dark except the sparse backstage lights. She walked over to the pit door, climbed down a few flights of stairs, and waited at the door for the song to end. She was so close! Lizzie recognized it as _The Netherfield Ball. _As soon as the song ended, Lizzie opened the door silently and shut it carefully, per the instructions on said door. She sat down in her seat and took out her viola, praying that it might be slightly in tune despite the humidity and sudden change in temperature. Tuning in the middle of a scene was not in the best interest of her employment, especially now that she was late.

Amanda, another violist, gave her a strange look. Lizzie shrugged. She couldn't say much to excuse herself at this point. Forgetting the time. Wow. This was a new low.

**After the show**, Charlie called Lizzie over.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked her, a worried look on his face.

"I'm fine. I just forgot to check the time," said Lizzie.

"Does this have anything to do with San Francisco?" asked Charlie.

"No, I'm fine!" she protested. "If there was 'anything,' it wouldn't have anything to do with San Francisco, anyways. Lydia can make her own decisions."

"You seemed a bit distressed over the whole thing," said Charlie, who straightened his tie, rolled his shoulders, and picked up his briefcase.

"I'm fine, now," said Lizzie.

"Good," said Charlie. His mood changed to his characteristic cheerfulness, "The orchestra is having dinner at Joe's BBQ. My treat."

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. Thanks to Paplover for the name suggestion! **

**If you'd like to check out the tumblr for my Pride and Prejudice fanfiction, here's the link: amandald98fics (.) tumblr (.) com**


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